Don't
by Quiet Time
Summary: Why did Jack say "Don't" instead of "I love you too?" Disclaimer: I don't own any of them. I'm not that clever.
1. Chapter 1

I shouldn't have brought him with me, Jack raged to himself. I should have made him stay behind. We should be living together, not dying together. He'll die, and I'll wake up, I'll be torn back into life. But he won't be there to hold me through it. Never again. Never….No No No No No

Ianto struggled desperately to speak. It had become a game, this holding back the words. And now, too late, he was saying it, finally. Well, better late than never.

"I love you, I….."

And even through the agony in his mind and heart, Jack knew what came next. Knew exactly what he had to say. Because they had their own language, their own code. Words unique to them, that would mean more than repeating those other precious words one last time.

"Don't."

First dates were always awkward. They'd caught a movie before dinner, at Jack's suggestion. Because he had other plans for after they'd eaten. Besides, first date etiquette suggested seeing the movie first would give them something to talk about over the meal. Something other than Torchwood. And it had worked, to an extent. They'd had a laugh picking holes in the sci-fi flick they'd seen. But the conversation had run dry over the entrees.

Jack watched Ianto across the table, trying to hide his amusement. The young man was pretending to be concentrating on his food, when he'd hardly gotten any into his mouth. Hadn't met his eyes all evening. Hands, lips, yes, a satisfactory amount of that in the darkened cinema, but not eyes. Shyness was the last thing he'd expected, considering. Cute though. Damn cute.

"How's your pasta?" Jack asked casually.

"It's OK. Bit heavy on the anchovies," Ianto muttered.

"Really? I've had the puttanesca here before, I've always liked it." Jack reached over and grasped the wrist holding the fork, bringing it towards his own mouth.

"Yeah," he agreed, swallowing. "They went a tad overboard with the hairy fish this time."

Ianto pulled his hand away, eyes flicking around the restaurant.

"Something wrong?" Jack asked.

"Don't like sharing food," Ianto mumbled.

"We share pizza all the time," Jack pointed out.

"That's different. Everyone shares pizzas."

"We've shared the same _slice_," Jack reminded him. He was getting an inkling of the problem here, and he didn't like it much. He slid his hand deliberately across the table, reaching for the hand Ianto wasn't using to pretend to eat. Watched it snatched away.

"So," Jack said quietly. "Grappling in the Hub is fine, snogging in the cinema is OK, but I'm not allowed to touch even your hand in public, is that it?"

Ianto met his eyes, finally. "I'm sorry. I'm just…I'm not used to this."

"What exactly," Jack asked "Are you not used to? Eating in public? Dating?"

Ianto flushed. "Dating," he admitted. "Dating men, specifically. I'm not. I don't…"

Jack waited. Ianto attacked his food determinedly.

Really doesn't want to tell me, thought Jack with amusement. Not all bad, at least it's made him actually get some food into his mouth. Better not tell him he dripped sauce on his tie. And I'm worrying if he's eating enough. Pathetic, Harkness.

"I like _women_," Ianto burst out. "I loved Lisa. I…" he spluttered to a halt again.

"I like women too," Jack pointed out. "When I'm with one."

"And bug-eyed aliens, when you're with them," Ianto added. Slightly bitterly.

Well, that's something, Jack thought, at least he's jealous.

"I've met some very lovely bug-eyed aliens," he agreed.

Ianto went back to shredding pasta

"Have you finished eating?" Jack asked.

Ianto pushed his plate away. "Yep."

"Dessert?"

"No thanks," Ianto smiled thinly. "Watching my waistline."

Jack grinned. "So am I. Looks good in those jeans, by the way." He chuckled at the blush. "Coffee? Won't be as good as yours, but at least you won't have to make it."

Ianto shook his head. "Too late. Won't be able to sleep."

"I wasn't expecting to get much sleep tonight," Jack said cheerfully. "Were you?"

Ianto choked slightly. "A latte, then," he muttered.

Ianto's nondescript sedan was parked next to the SUV in the car park. They hovered uncertainly between the two vehicles.

"I could have picked you up," Jack commented, leaning back against the door of the SUV.

"Doesn't matter," Ianto said, fumbling for his keys.

Jack took a deep breath, then took the plunge. "Do you want to come back to the Hub?" And was quite annoyed with himself at how pleased he was to see Ianto nod.

"See you there then. Twenty minutes?"

"Ten," Ianto disagreed. "It's not that far."

"I thought," Jack said with amusement, "You might want enough time to pick up a change of clothes for tomorrow." Even in the uncertain light of the carpark, he could see the crimson blush flare across Ianto's face. Jack bit back a smile. Guess he hadn't thought of that. He really _isn't_ used to this. Sneaking around isn't his first preference. And Jack suddenly didn't feel like smiling anymore. Which means I'm just his dirty little secret. Nice. Not. But he knew he'd go along with it anyway. For a while. The Welshman was under his skin. Couldn't give up this easily.

"Not that I'd mind the jeans, personally," Jack added, trying and failing to keep the edge out of his voice. "But the others might notice."

Ianto still didn't answer. He had his car door open by now. The cabin lights illuminated a clothes hanger suspended from a hook in the back seat. Complete with a full suit. Shirt, tie, probably socks and shoes there somewhere, too.

Jack's mood cleared abruptly. Maybe he had it wrong. "Ten minutes, then," he said lightly, leaning in for a kiss. Which Ianto dodged.

"What's the problem now?" Jack asked impatiently.

"I'm sorry," Ianto said, dredging up a smile. "Took me by surprise." But his eyes were roaming the car park, registering the other people returning to their cars. And Jack could see the effort it took for Ianto to lean back towards him.

"Don't force yourself," Jack said tightly, backing away, hands dropping to his sides. "I'm not into unwilling sacrifices. It's not like this is a condition of employment. Go home, Ianto. See you tomorrow."

"Jack," the touch on his arm was light, but it froze him in the act of climbing into the SUV. "Jack, don't go. I'm sorry, I really am."

Jack dropped back down to the tarmac. "What the hell do you want from me, Ianto? Tell me, because I've got no idea."

"Neither have I," Ianto confessed. "This is new for me. Too new. I don't…I can't…."

His eyes were begging for understanding. Jack's anger evaporated.

"Space?" Jack offered. "Time? Persistence? Indifference? What?"

"Patience?" Ianto suggested.

"I can do that," Jack agreed. "So," he leaned towards Ianto again, giving him time to pull away, relieved when he didn't. Took his face between his hands. Kissed him lingeringly - on the forehead. "OK?" he asked.

Ianto smiled. "Yep."

"Keep that for public consumption then," Jack suggested, drawing away reluctantly. "Would that help?"

"Yep," Ianto agreed. "Thanks." He turned back to his car. "Hub?" he asked uncertainly, looking back over his shoulder. "Or not?"

"Not," Jack decided regretfully. "In the interests of patience, you understand."

"OK," Ianto agreed. "But, um." Pause. "I'll pay for dinner next time, yeah?"

Jack grinned. "Next time? You asking me on a date? Patience paying off already?"

Ianto dropped into his car, started the engine. "Was that a yes?"

"Yes," Jack called over the sound of the engine. "Yes."


	2. Chapter 2

The Hub felt much lonelier than usual. Because he hadn't expected to _be_ alone, obviously. Jack rattled at the coffee machine for a while, coaxing from it a cup of something that for all his effort wouldn't match what Ianto produced in five minutes. Took one mouthful and grimaced. Woeful.

Patience. The hell with patience, Jack thought. I want him here now. I want it to be morning already, for him to be walking through the door. Just to say Hi, to make me a coffee that I can actually drink. And I really am old enough to stop lying to myself. I want more than coffee.

The door alarm sounded. Jack retreated to his office with his woeful caffeine fix. Whoever it is, he thought, as the cog rolled, I will not have them find me moping around the coffee machine. I'm at least a century too old to be having a crush. And I'm just imagining those footsteps are his. How could I recognize anyone just from their footsteps? Except that he could. He had. He did.

"Jack?"

"Ianto?" Jack leaned over the railing, revolting coffee splashing from his cup. "What are you doing here? Didn't we agree on Not?" But he was quite ridiculously pleased.

"I told you I wouldn't be able to sleep if I had that coffee," Ianto said composedly. "But I'll…I'll just stay down here. I've got stuff to catch up on." Blue screen light flashed as Ianto booted up the set of terminals at his desk.

"Speaking of coffee," Jack said, bringing his sad attempt back down the stairs. "I was desperate enough to make my own."

Ianto tasted Jack's brew and shuddered.

"Exactly," Jack agreed. "Would you make me something drinkable? Please?"

"How is it," Ianto asked, effortlessly working his magic on the coffee machine. "That you've lived so long and never worked out how to make a coffee?"

"That machine is possessed," Jack said dismissively. "Or you've sabotaged it."

Ianto handed Jack a steaming mug of 'industrial strength' and returned to his workstation. A staggering amount of files opened on the screens.

Jack hid a sigh. Had he really come back just to work? "What are you working on?" he asked, more to keep the conversation going than out of any real interest.

"Cross referencing tables for the archives," Ianto answered. "Tedious stuff, but easiest done when it's quiet."

"I would love," Jack said, sitting on the edge of Ianto's desk, "To pretend to be interested in cross referencing, but I'm so not."

Ianto smiled. "That's why it's my job, I suppose."

"But," Jack persisted, "I'm kind of interested in you. What are my chances of distracting you from this enthralling project?"

"You won't distract me," Ianto assured him. "It's all copy and paste. Only takes half a brain. What did you want to talk about?"

Talk, Jack thought. He knows damn well that's not what I want. Flirting again. Which did bring to mind something worth discussing. Worth understanding. If he could.

"Given what you said earlier," Jack said slowly. "I can't help wondering why you've been flirting with me since the first time you saw me."

"I needed the job," Ianto muttered. "For Lisa."

Jack placed a hand theatrically over his heart. "Ouch."

Ianto's eyes flickered to his briefly. "Sorry."

"Of course, there was the incident with the stopwatch," Jack continued teasingly.

"That was….You were so sad about Suzie….I only meant to distract you…."

"It worked," Jack said, eyes twinkling. "Then, after Abaddon…with Owen watching too."

"I thought you were dead," Ianto protested, cheeks burning. "Really dead. Never coming back dead."

"But," said Jack, "I did come back."

"Yeah," Ianto agreed. "You did. Then you left again. With the Doctor. You deserted us." There was no mistaking the pain in his voice.

"I agree the timing could have been better. But I'd been waiting for the Doctor for a hundred years, Ianto." Jack said, trying not to sound like he was pleading. But he was.

"Must be a hell of a shag," Ianto muttered under his breath.

"Much as it pains me to admit it," Jack said, "I've got no idea."

"Why _did_ you come back?" Ianto demanded, turning his head and fixing Jack with that determined gaze. "Why didn't you stay with him?"

"I could have," Jack admitted. "He asked me to. But….are you sure you want to hear this? I did already tell you once."

Ianto nodded wordlessly, blue eyes intent.

"I spent a year hanging from chains," Jack began.

"A year?" Ianto interrupted. "It was only a few months." Though, now he thought about it, it had felt like a year at least, at the time.

"Paradox," Jack explained. "Long story. But when the paradox reversed, so did time."

Ianto nodded slowly. "OK, I think. Go on." He relaxed somewhat, turning back to focus on his screen, fingers flicking over the keyboard.

"So I had a lot of time to think," Jack continued, "Hanging from those chains while Martha was saving the world. Martha Jones, that is. I'm gonna get her to Torchwood some time. She's brilliant. Where was I?"

"In chains," Ianto prompted, smiling at his screen. "Not by choice, I take it?"

Jack grinned. "Not that time. Courtesy of Harold Saxon, remember him?" He waited for the nod.

"Nasty," Ianto said thoughtfully. "Is that where the nightmares come from?"

"Some of them," Jack admitted, swallowing. He hadn't realized Ianto knew about the nightmares. "I thought mostly about Torchwood, during that year," he continued. "And you. I'd waited a century for the Doctor, and I left him, for you and for Torchwood. In that order."

Ianto's hands faltered on the keyboard. He swore violently as a screen full of data vanished from the carefully constructed tables.

"Knew you didn't want to hear it," Jack commented smugly.

"Just let me concentrate on this for a minute, would you?"

Jack smirked. Ianto's fingers danced across the keyboard until the tables filled with data again. "Got it," he mumbled. "Nearly lost two days' work," he said accusingly.

"You said I wouldn't distract you," Jack reminded him.

"I should have known better," Ianto sighed. "You aren't going to let me get any work done, are you?"

"Not a chance," Jack assured him.


	3. Chapter 3

It had taken weeks to get around to that second date. Not that they hadn't tried. Several "rift permitting" dates had been planned, and missed. Because the rift hadn't permitted. And those nights had been spent chasing Weevils, saving the Earth, and occasionally falling into each others arms at the Hub, after. Not completely unsatisfactory, but it hadn't taken things out of the realm of 'dirty little secret' yet. Which, Jack had come to realize, wasn't going to be nearly enough for him. Not this time. So when date night finally arrived, he'd insisted on picking Ianto up, against all protests. And if he'd taken that as battle lines being drawn, so be it.

Stalemate, to begin with. Ianto had been waiting outside the building, even though Jack had purposely arrived early. Probably monitoring his GPS, clever little bugger.

"Where to?" Jack asked, kissing Ianto's forehead before he'd even gotten his seatbelt on. The forehead kiss thing had been working pretty well, though Ianto was yet to offer one.

"Sushi bar near the docks," Ianto replied. "Told you I should have driven. It's not that far from the Hub."

"Handy," Jack commented, raising his eyebrows.

"One track mind," Ianto grumbled.

Jack let that pass. It wasn't his choice the only place they were ever alone together was the Hub. But launching an attack was hardly going to help.

They had a booth. In a corner. A dingy corner. Jack wondered whether Ianto had sneaked in earlier and broken the bulb in the light over their table himself.

"Hairy fish last time," Jack said, breaking the silence. "Raw fish this time. A pattern."

"Hardly," Ianto replied, eyes down, seemingly intent on getting the right amount of wasabi onto his tuna.

"Are you actually planning on looking my way tonight, or are we doomed for a repeat of last time?" Jack asked.

"Something wrong?" Ianto asked, raising his eyes innocently.

"You tell me," Jack demanded. OK, so he was launching the attack anyway. "You asked for patience. It's been weeks. And…and…damn it, I'm sick of this. I've done the dirty little secret things plenty of times, but you know what? It doesn't work with someone I actually care about. And respect. And want respect _from_."

Ianto flinched at the anger and hurt in Jack's tone. Sobering. Jack kept his feelings to himself to the extent you could almost forget he had any. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize."

"Stop apologizing," Jack hissed, frustrated, "It doesn't help."

Ianto spread his hands in a gesture of defeat. "What would help, Jack? I do respect you. You must know that."

"You could start," Jack said, "By telling me what the problem is. That's the normal practice for sorting out issues, or so I've heard."

"Normal," Ianto repeated. "I'm not normal, that's the crux of it."

Jack laughed. "You're in good company then. I have it on good authority that I'm not just abnormal, but impossible."

But Ianto wasn't laughing. Not even smiling.

"Exactly how are you not normal?" Jack pressed. "Given the crap Torchwood put you through; you're probably the sanest person I know."

"I have my doubts about that," Ianto said, "And I'm not…"

"Not what?"

"I'm not _gay,_" he said, pushing the words out through gritted teeth. "I don't even notice any other men. But, hell, I can't be straight either. Not anymore. Not when I can hardly stop looking at you….It doesn't make any sense…...It's not…."

Jack took both his hands firmly, not letting him pull away. "Look at me now, Ianto."

Ianto's eyes raised to meet Jack's. The confusion in them was painful to watch.

"I wish I could help you with this," Jack said softly. "But I can't. I don't understand the labels you hang on each other this century. Though I suppose," he added reflectively, "it's improved since last century. Weren't even supposed to be with someone who had a different skin color, for most of it."

Ianto had given up trying to get his hands free. And was starting to realize he didn't want to. The firm grip was reassuring, an anchor in the confusion. "Is there a point you're trying to make?" he asked.

"Labels," Jack repeated, "Don't mean anything. Gay, straight, they're just tags. What does it really matter? It's the person inside the body that counts. No matter what gender it happens to be."

"Liberal thinking," Ianto said, managing a smile. "Goes for alien bodies too, I assume?"

"What it comes down to," Jack said, refusing to be deflected, trapping Ianto's eyes with his own, "is that I'd love you no matter what body you were wearing."

Ianto fell back against his seat, ripping his hands free. "Don't." he said hoarsely.

"Don't what?" Jack asked.

"Just don't" Ianto stammered.

"Don't say it," Jack demanded, "Or don't feel it?" And this time he let the silence drag out. Preparing himself for 'don't do either.'

"Don't say it," Ianto answered, finally.

"OK, I won't" Jack agreed. "At least, not until you do. Deal?"

"Deal," Ianto agreed. And this time it was his hands that reached across the table.

"But I'll still think it," Jack added.

Ianto squeezed his hands.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thank you to everyone who was kind enough to review. Glad you're enjoying it as much as I am. More angst in this chapter. I love angst. Have fun.**

"Normal people," Ianto commented. "Play tennis, or go, I don't know, hiking, fishing. Something like that. We, however, go Weevil hunting." He checked the monitor he was holding. "Next left," he directed.

"I seem to remember deciding we weren't normal," Jack answered cheerfully. "Normal is boring, anyway. And speaking of boring, I sat through that opera with you last time. You owe me."

"You fell asleep after the interval," Ianto said. "Which was fine with me, because I got to listen to the second half without all the…..er…..distractions." He cleared his throat. "Right at the next set of lights."

Jack laughed. "Anyway, it's my pick this time, and I've picked Weevils."

"It's a ploy to extract unpaid overtime," Ianto said. "Slow down a bit, it'll be one of these streets."

"If this was overtime," Jack announced, slowing the SUV from ridiculously fast to merely speeding. "You'd be getting a reprimand for insolence."

"If this was overtime," Ianto parried, "You'd be getting sued for harassment. Oh, what a payout that would be."

"Do it," Jack offered. "I'll plead guilty and we can take the money and retire to the Bahamas."

Ianto pretended to think about it. "I'm too young to retire yet. Remind me in ten years.

Signal's coming from behind that warehouse, I think."

"Have you got everything?" Jack asked, applying the brakes with a screech.

"Sedative spray," said Ianto, slapping his pockets. "Stun gun. Mask. Cuffs. Idiocy. Yep, everything."

The SUV screeched to a halt. Ianto looked at Jack disapprovingly. "Do you want to sound a fanfare as well? I was hoping for the stealthy approach. Element of surprise, and all that."

"Boring," Jack repeated, dropping gracefully out of the car. "Behind the warehouse, you said? You go left then. See you across the Weevil."

Ianto reached the Weevil first. In spite of his concerns, it obviously hadn't heard the SUV. Its head was buried in a garbage can. This was going to be easy. Ianto waited until the Weevil raised its head and sprayed it full in the face with the sedative.

Which was when everything went wrong. This was obviously one of those Weevils that was immune to the sedative. Ianto dropped the useless spray and backed away, drawing his stun gun. But of course he tripped on the discarded spray canister and went sprawling backwards before the stunner connected. The Weevil pounced, pinning his arms to the ground. Ianto choked on its foul odor. If this was his final breath, he thought fuzzily, he would have much preferred 51st Century pheromones. The Weevil's face pressed into the space between his shoulder and neck.

Actually, there _were _those pheromones. And there was Jack. On the Weevil's back, hauling its head back by brute force. Ianto scrambled out from under the beast, retrieved his stun gun, and waited for Jack to stop rolling around with the Weevil long enough for him to stun the damned thing.

Jack stopped. Still. Very still. Head at a strange angle. Claw marks on his neck. Shit.

The Weevil turned back to Ianto, confirming his fears. It had left Jack because Weevils preferred live prey. Ianto raised his stun gun. No mistakes this time. Stunned it, masked it, handcuffed its hands and legs as well. Jack still hadn't moved.

Jack remembered vaguely that he'd been lying on concrete when he died, so he tried his best not to let his head thrash around as was ripped back into life. A violent death often meant a violent awakening. And if his head connected with the concrete hard enough he'd die all over again. Difficult to control though, what with the lungs burning and the heart hammering and the sparks flying around in his brain as the synapses woke. Head thrashed anyway, in spite his efforts. But this time, it connected with something soft. Warm. Comforting. Ianto's shoulder. Ianto's arms around him. Nice. Very nice.

"Now this," Jack said groggily, "Is almost worth dying for." He opened his eyes to find some very lovely blue ones watching him intently. With, yes, definitely a hint of moisture in them. "I could get used to this."

"Shut up," Ianto snapped. "That was stupid, jumping onto it like that."

Jack smiled. His wits were still returning and he was feeling absurdly pleased at the level of concern Ianto was displaying. On the other hand, if his Welshman got any angrier he might burst a blood vessel. And Jack was quite fond of Ianto's blood vessels. Especially….Focus, Harkness, before he kills you again.

"I was showing off," Jack said teasingly, in an attempt to lighten the atmosphere. "Were you impressed?"

"No," Ianto answered shortly. "Why didn't you use your stunner? Or shoot it, if the stunner isn't macho enough for you. Why the hand to hand combat? It could have torn you to pieces."

Jack laughed weakly. "It was about to kill you. All I could think about was getting its head out of your neck. No one and nothing," he added, trying to get his feet under him, "gets their mouth onto your neck except me."

"Slight double standard there," Ianto commented dryly, helping Jack up.

Jack froze. This had stopped being funny. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked quietly.

Ianto looked up. "Nothing," he said quickly. "We were joking around, right? Forget it. I'd rather not know anyway. Better off with my head in the sand." He left to crouch beside the Weevil. "It's still out," he announced. "Get the rear door open, would you? I'll bring beastie boy over."

"There's nothing _to_ know," Jack said intensely, refusing to move.

"It's bound to wake up soon," Ianto warned, getting his arms under the Weevil.

Jack flung the doors at the rear of the SUV open so hard the hinges screeched.

Ianto laid the Weevil carefully onto the floor of the rear cabin. Overdid it with the handcuffs, he thought, unlocking the ones around its feet.

Jack's hands gripped his shoulders. "There's no one else," he insisted.

Ianto sighed. He closed the SUV door carefully, making sure there were no bits of Weevil caught in the hinges, then leaned back against it. Jack's hands settled back onto his shoulders, his grip uncomfortably tight.

"I really didn't want to do this," Ianto said. "But if you're going to push it, let's see, well, there was the nurse at the psych clinic last week…"

"I was distracting her so you could get into the files."

"The twins at the cafe," Ianto said, "Know about that ticklish spot on your back."

Jack grinned. "Is that how you found out?" Ianto's shoulders twitched under his hands. Jack tightened his grip. "But that was years ago, Ianto."

"The guy at the Indian takeaway," Ianto continued.

"I've been saving us from food poisoning," Jack argued. "A bit of eyelash fluttering and we don't get the stuff from the bottom of the bain-marie."

"The catwoman from Felix prime," Ianto finished, an edge of triumph in his voice. He was sure of that one. He'd cleaned the Hub the next day, after all. Fur everywhere.

"Sheba? That was before we were dating."

Ianto looked at him helplessly. "Jack, this is a waste of time. You're not going to convince me and it doesn't matter. You flirt with anything that moves. And some that don't. I can't help being jealous but I'm trying not to make a huge thing of it. Just leave it." He pulled himself free and opened the passenger side door of the SUV. Jack hadn't moved. "Or do you want me to drive?" Ianto asked pointedly. "Come on, we need to get him back before he wakes up. I had the stunner up pretty high. He shouldn't have another hit tonight, not if we want him alive."

Jack drove back much too fast. Worse than normal. Ran two red lights.

The Weevil was already starting to stir as they unclipped the handcuffs and removed the mask. They got him into a cell on his own and left him to wake up.

Jack was perched stubbornly on Ianto's desk when he returned from logging the new occupant into the security system. This was going to get sorted out. It was bad enough that Ianto thought he was still sleeping around, but it was even worse that he didn't seem to mind.

"You OK?" Ianto asked.

"No, I'm…."

"Shut up," Ianto ordered, cutting off any further argument with a very forceful kiss.

"What was that for?" Jack asked, when they paused for air. "Not that I'm complaining."

"I hate it," Ianto said angrily, "When you die. Stop doing it."

Jack laughed helplessly. "I didn't do it on purpose."

"Showing off, you said," Ianto grumbled.

"And all for nothing," Jack said mournfully. "You weren't even impressed."

"I was too busy being terrified. Hell, Jack, what if that was the time you didn't come back from?"

Jack smiled, sliding his arms around Ianto's waist and drawing him close. "I'll always come back. I promise. As long as you're here to come back to."

Ianto frowned, placed a single finger across Jack's lips. "Don't," he said warningly.

"I wasn't going to," Jack protested. Not that he didn't want to. But he _had_ promised. Not until Ianto said it first.

Ianto's eyebrows raised. "Really?" he said. "Must have been me then."

Jack waited. Ianto chuckled. A rare and welcome sound.

"You _are _gonna say it," Jack growled. "Even if I have to make you."

"Promises. Promises." Ianto said. "Do you know what you look like at the moment?"

Jack smiled. He knew he was being manipulated, but Ianto being playful was too rare an event to ignore. "No idea," he said. "Can't see myself." Except, he thought, in the reflection of your eyes. And if I said something that fatuous I'd have to kill myself. Again.

"Like a cat watching a mousehole," Ianto said. "Ready to pounce."

Jack pounced.

The dim light inside the bunker reflected back from two pair of eyes, both still slightly glazed. Breathing slowly returning to normal.

"There's only you, now," Jack said softly. "Why won't you believe me?"

Their eyes locked again for an endless moment, one set demanding, the other clouded. Eventually, Ianto smiled, the clouds clearing away.

"Part of my problem," Ianto said, dropping his head onto Jack's shoulder. "Is that I believe anything you tell me. Didn't think I was quite that naïve, but there it is."

"It's not a problem," Jack said. "I don't lie to you."

The sound that drifted back from his shoulder could only be described as a snort.

"Very dignified," Jack commented.

"I didn't say you lied," Ianto explained sleepily. "You prefer distraction or evasion. Or, failing those, a dramatic exit. Serves the same purpose." He yawned.

Jack smiled. Ianto knew him too well. Which should set alarm bells ringing, but somehow it didn't. You've got it soooo bad, Harkness.

"You can ask me anything," he promised. "I might not tell you everything, and I might refuse to answer, but I won't lie."

"Great," Ianto said his voice blurring into sleep. "Now all I have to do is work out what to ask. Only 150 years to work my way through. Easy." His breathing slipped into the regular pattern of sleep.

Perhaps, Jack thought, we should have all our arguments in the bunker.


	5. Chapter 5

**This chapter takes place during 'Adrift,' immediately after they've been 'caught in the act'.**

**Thanks again to everyone who has read and reviewed. **

Gwen was gone. In fact, she'd probably never left the Hub quite so quickly. The outer door slammed shut even before the cog had finished rolling.

Jack's shirt was already off by the time Ianto was back in the hot house. Eager to pick up where they'd left off when Gwen barged in.

But Ianto was still dressed. Had all his shirt buttons done up, even. He sank onto a bench with his head sunk into his hands. "God," he gasped. "That was horrible."

"Embarrassing," Jack agreed. "Funny though."

"Funny," Ianto shook his head. "Humiliating. Most humiliating experience of my life, actually. And this from someone who humiliates himself regularly."

"Hey," Jack said, kneeling down in front of him and stroking the hands that were still sunken into his hair. "I thought you handled it really well. Dignified, considering."

"There's no dignity," Ianto said, still into his hands, "in inviting someone to join naked hide and seek. Did you really have to throw that in?"

"I was going for humor to defuse the tension," Jack explained. "By the way, did you clue her in to the island?"

Ianto nodded, finally raising his head. "I left a locator on her desk. Not that I expected her to find it until morning. You'll have to leave early to get there before she does."

Jack frowned. "I hope you're right about this. I still think we should have kept her out of it."

"She'd have found out eventually, now she's gotten the scent. Better to control it so you're there."

"So you said. I'm not convinced, but I'll go with your judgment."

"Nice to know you appreciate my brain, too." Ianto said, smiling faintly.

"You're got a great brain," Jack agreed, "But I'm kind of focused on the rest of you, just at the moment. Where were we?"

"The moment," said Ianto. "Has passed."

"Not for me," Jack persisted playfully. "And I bet I can get you back there, too."

"What if someone else storms in?" Ianto fretted, twitching away from Jack's grab for his shirt buttons.

"Twice in one night? Hardly likely. Besides, they all know already. Even Tosh made a comment the other day."

"Tosh," said Ianto weakly. "Tosh too?"

"Sweet, it was, in a saccharine kind of way. Wishing someone would look at her the way I look at you. Someone, ha. Owen, I'd bet my next paycheck."

"Are we gossiping?" Ianto asked, eyes rolling. "About the lovely Tosh and the undead doctor?"

"Since you aren't co-operating with my preferred agenda," Jack agreed, giving up for the moment. He shrugged back into his shirt and sat down beside Ianto. Laid an arm across his shoulders. Not the type of touch he'd had in mind, but better than nothing. "What do you want to do instead?"

"I think," said Ianto, "I'll just go home. Sleep. Try to convince myself it was a dream, her barging in. Or a nightmare." He shook himself free of Jack's arm and stood up.

"At least Gwen won't have time to gossip with Owen and Tosh tomorrow," Ianto continued gloomily. "Save me a few hours of insults from the not-so-good doctor. He's going to love the new ammunition."

"Just tell him to go to hell," Jack advised impatiently. He'd had just about enough of the mood.

"Easy for you to say," Ianto grumbled. "He saves all the best barbs for me."

"You were right," Jack said, with his last ounce of patience. "You really do need to sleep. The bed is this way. Come on." He took Ianto's hand and tried to lead him out of the hothouse.

"I'm not sleeping here tonight," Ianto said, pulling away. "I'm going home."

"Stop taking it out on me," Jack snapped. He'd thought the days of being frozen out were long gone, but here they were again. "It was bound to happen sometime. They've all got keys and they all work nights occasionally. It's hardly my fault we always end up in the Hub."

"Which implies," said Ianto, the tone of Jack's voice breaking through his mood, "that it's mine. How does that work?"

"You've never let me set foot inside your flat," Jack said bitterly.

Ianto blinked. "Didn't know you wanted to. You never asked."

"Haven't you read those signs in the shops? Don't ask, because a refusal offends?"

Ianto blinked. "But Jack," he said, bewildered by the bitterness, "You're welcome anytime."

"Right," Jack muttered. "Thanks. As long as I'm gone at a reasonable hour. Can't have the neighbors _suspect_ anything."

He'd hurt him. He'd hurt Jack. Hadn't meant to. And he would do anything to fix it. Anything…This, Ianto realized, is what's called a light bulb moment.

"Anytime," Ianto said firmly. "You're welcome anytime. _All _the time, if you want."

Jack looked up, wondering if he'd heard right.

"Was that?" he began cautiously, "Did you?...It sounded like….."

"Was that a No?" Ianto asked, with a great show of innocence. Jack sounded almost as awkward as he had the first time he'd asked him out. Awkward and Jack was a rare combination.

Jack cleared his throat and tried again. "Are you asking me to move in?"

Ianto smiled. "Interested?" he asked pointedly.

"Do you want some time to change your mind before I start packing?"

"No," Ianto shook his head firmly. "Don't give me the chance to do something that stupid. Pack _before_ I change my mind. Nah, sod that, it'll take too long. Just grab enough for a couple of nights. I'll have to clear you out some wardrobe space for the rest, anyway."

"Done," Jack said.

"Bring the coat, though," Ianto called after him. "I still love that coat."

Ianto hunted through his desk while Jack rattled around in his office, cramming who knew what into a duffel bag. Found what he was looking for before Jack reached the staircase.

Jack met him near the cog door, coat on, bulging bag slung across his shoulder. "You sure?" he asked quietly.

Ianto tossed him something that jingled. "Keys," he said. "Spare set. _Your _set. I'll get spares cut sometime. In case we both manage to lock ourselves out. Which, given my luck, would probably be while we were naked in the snow, or something equally undignified."

Jack cradled the keys almost reverently. "Ianto," he said, "I lo…"

But he was silenced with a determined finger across his lips. Followed by a kiss.

"Don't," Ianto reminded him.

Jack grinned. "You can stop me saying it," he warned. "But you can't stop me feeling it."

Ianto smiled back. "I know," he said. "and I wouldn't want to. Shall we go home?"

**Hope you enjoyed this. Working on the next (possibly last) chapter now, where hopefully everything will make sense..….**


	6. Chapter 6

**This was supposed to be the last chapter, but it kept growing. So there will be another. At least. **

**Timing: After Adrift but before Exit Wounds.**

**Huge thanks to everyone who is reading this.**

"Stop primping," Jack called. "Or we're going to be late."

Ianto paused in the middle of tying his tie. "Are you trying to make that my fault?" he demanded in exasperation. "When you hogged the shower all evening?"

Jack stuck his head into the bedroom. "I did invite you to share."

"Oh, right," agreed Ianto. "That wouldn't have made us late at all."

Jack reached over, snatched the tie away and ducked back.

"There, you're ready. No, hang on." He twitched the top two shirt buttons undone. "Perfect. Red really is your best color."

Ianto sighed, very loudly. "I am not going to chase you around after my tie. So you win, this time. Which doesn't constitute a pattern. Hey, stop."

Jack froze with his coat halfway on. "What?"

Ianto strode over and slid the coat the rest of the way up Jack's shoulders. "My job," he said possessively. "And, speaking of perfect."

Jack's breath hissed in as Ianto's lips claimed the back of his neck. He wasn't used to the open affection that had stemmed from the privacy of having their own home. Ianto's reserve ceased abruptly at the doorway. Took Jack by surprise, still. And he was reacting at about the level of a teenager, which was kind of mortifying. Fun though. Definitely fun. Jack's arms closed on empty air. Ianto was in his own coat already, waiting by the door with an exaggerated air of patience.

"You were worried about being late," he said. "Shall we go?"

"You're a goddamn tease, Jones," Jack muttered. "And you'll pay for it. Later."

"Be nice," Ianto chided. "Or you can make your own coffee. Time you learnt how to use it, anyway."

Jack's sole contribution to fittings and furniture had been an expresso machine. And bedsheets. Egyptian linen. Who'd have guessed?

"Very nice," Ianto commented, as they were shown to their seats in the restaurant. Linen tablecloths, crystal glasses, silver flatware.

"It would want to be," Jack answered. "Had to wait eight weeks for a table."

Ianto raised his eyebrows questioningly. "Was that before or after you flirted you way down the waiting list?"

"After," Jack admitted. "Would have been twelve weeks otherwise."

The banter continued through the meal. Jack's mind drifted, comparing this to their earlier dates. So much had changed, especially since he'd moved in. Neither of them thought twice anymore about stealing food off each other's plates, for example. Ianto was still reticent about public displays of affection, but there were compromises. Like the kiss on the forehead. Subtle touches that symbolized more than the flamboyant gestures Jack had used in the past. Like now.

Ianto leaned across the table and took Jack's chin in his hand. "Hello?"

Jack dragged his attention back to the present. Which was quite satisfactory. And would become more so later if the evening went anything like the way he had planned.

"Sorry. Thinking."

"About what?"

"Tell you later," Jack said, winking. "If I told you now it might put you off dinner."

"Considerate of you," Ianto agreed. "The food is rather good. You might want to try eating some." His hand brushed along Jack's jaw before sliding away. "Over half an hour in the bathroom and you still didn't shave tonight," he commented. His eyes twinkled. "You're going to give me whisker rash."

"What, right now?" Jack teased. His gaze flickered around the restaurant. "Actually, good idea. I'm feeling inclined to mark out my territory."

"Huh?" Ianto said inelegantly.

"Brunette, third table from the right, black dress. She's been eyeing you off all evening."

Ianto did his own survey, not easy to do inconspicuously given that the table in question was directly behind him.

"Oh," he said eventually. "I see."

Jack cursed internally. The blood had drained from Ianto's face.

"Blast from the past?" Jack asked with an attempt at lightness.

Ianto shook his head. "My sister's best friend."

"Why is that a problem?" Jack demanded. Not that he couldn't guess. And he'd just been feeling smug about how everything had changed.

"I haven't told Rhiannon about you yet," Ianto admitted. "Stop looking at me like that. We've been busy at work. I haven't had a chance to see her since you moved in. I didn't even get over for my niece's birthday."

"There's an invention called the telephone," Jack said snidely. "And I'm fairly sure you know how to use it."

"I don't want to tell her on the phone," Ianto persisted. "It's too important."

Well, when he put it like that. "Black dress has her phone out," Jack informed him.

"Her name's Susan," Ianto said. His face creased in thought. "Actually, it might not be such a bad thing, after all. Give Rhiannon time to get used to the idea, perhaps."

"She's talking to someone," Jack continued the commentary. "Getting a bit excited."

"Well, you are staring at her. You tend to have that effect," Ianto agreed. "So, um, assuming that's Rhiannon she's calling, which it probably is, she'll need a day or two to sort herself out. I'll invite myself around for dinner one night this week. Rift permitting."

"Sounds perfect," Jack said sarcastically. "Except that I get the feeling I'm not on the guest list."

"It's going to be hard for them, Jack," Ianto said quietly. "And for me. Rhiannon will blast me for keeping secrets and Johnny will insult me. If you're there you'd either storm out or end up with your fist in his face."

"Whereas you'll just put up with it." Jack looked at the determination in his lover's face and sighed. "I'm supposed to go along with this because….?"

Ianto chewed on his lower lip for a moment. "Because I need you to?"

"Tell me the rest of the plan then," Jack surrendered. Ianto gave so much uncomplainingly that it was impossible to refuse those rare occasions when he asked for something in return.

"Not much to tell. Rhiannon will realize how happy she is for me. Then she'll sort Johnny out because even though he's a clod he adores her and he'll do whatever makes her happy. And he actually does like me. I think. Sometimes. So when Rhiannon calls me to apologize for Johnny being a git, I invite them all for dinner the next weekend and you charm them into submission. Easy."

"Workable," Jack agreed. "But my cooperation comes at a cost."

"What cost?" Ianto asked suspiciously.

"There's a major flaw in you plan. And we resolve it my way."

"Is there?" Ianto asked, surprised. "What flaw?"

"We don't know for sure it's your sister on the other end of the phone," Jack explained, eyes glowing with mischief. "And since that seems to be the jumping off point of the grand plan, we're gonna give Susan over there something worth calling about."

Ianto looked back at him apprehensively. "What sort of something?"

"I'm about to improvise." He stretched both arms slowly across the table.

"Careful," Ianto said, "You're going to knock the wine bottle over."

Jack moved the bottle out of the way and grasped Ianto by the lapels. Close enough that Ianto could feel his breath on his face. And with the breath came those pheromones.

"Do you know what you look like at the moment?" Jack asked teasingly. Another ritual.

"What?"

"Rabbit in headlights."

Damn those pheromones, Ianto thought. I should be used to them by now. "The food is really good here, don't you think?" he said somewhat breathlessly

"Yeah, it's good," Jack said, drawing closer a fraction at a time. "So?"

"So don't do anything that's going to get us barred," Ianto pleaded.

Jack kissed him, gently, lingeringly. On the forehead.

"You're such a shit sometimes," Ianto said, sitting back with a thump. Jack rarely made him blush anymore, but at the moment he was fairly sure his face matched his shirt almost perfectly. And there was a restaurant full of people making "Awww" noises. Those that weren't retching.

"Susan just dropped her phone," Jack said with satisfaction. "Time we made a grand exit, I think." He grinned wickedly. "Should we say goodnight to her on our way out?"

"No," Ianto replied. "No. No. No. And in case that wasn't clear enough. No."

It was a rare, perfect night. No clouds. Moonlight reflecting back from the Bay. Ianto had gone strangely quiet.

"You're not angry about that, are you?" Jack asked, jerking his head back towards the restaurant.

"No," Ianto answered. "It was kind of funny. And I'm sure it got the message across."

"It's still early," Jack commented. "Want to go hunt some Weevils?"

"It's supposed to be our night off," Ianto answered, recovering some of his animation. "And you've already died once this week. Bled all over my shirt. I had to throw it out."

"Accounts for the tears," Jack said lightly. But they both knew the truth. The Blowfish they'd been tracking had doubled back on them fired at Ianto. Jack had gotten in the way. On purpose.

"It was almost new," Ianto agreed. "So let's not tempt fate again quite so soon. Not that fate had that much to do with it really. Most people have the sense to dodge bullets, not jump in front of them."

"You didn't dodge fast enough," Jack protested.

"I would have," Ianto answered. "If you hadn't knocked me flying with that heroic save. And Gwen would have had a clear shot if you hadn't dived in the way."

"But I like saving you," Jack said contentedly. "Especially now you're always there when I wake up."

"Idiot," Ianto grumbled. "You don't have to get yourself killed for that."

"I wasn't trying to get killed," Jack argued, "I was trying to stop _you_ from beingkilled."

Ianto smiled at him affectionately, but his eyes held sadness. "I'm only human. And mortal. It's bound to happen sometime."

"Not this week," Jack said stubbornly. He didn't like the way this was going. And he didn't like the way Ianto was looking at him. Compassion. Pity, almost. "Actually, not any week. Not if I can stop it."

"One day there won't be anything you can do," Ianto reminded him. "If Torchwood doesn't do for me old age will."

"Old age then," Jack said firmly, around the sudden lump in his throat. "That gives us another fifty years, minimum." There was an uncomfortable pressure building behind his eyes. "And this discussion is over. Never to be raised again. You're not leaving me."

"Don't," Ianto whispered.

"I didn't," Jack said.

"I might have been talking to myself," Ianto admitted. "I do that sometimes." He looked out at the moonlight sparkling on the Bay. "Do you mind if we walk for a while?" he asked, uncertainly.

"If you want," Jack agreed cautiously. He didn't like this mood. Something was wrong.

They ended up leaning against the rails on the jetty. Ianto looked unseeingly across the marina. "You really want to meet Rhiannon, then?" he asked dully.

"I can wait," Jack offered reluctantly. "If you're really not ready."

"It's not that." Ianto protested.

Jack moved behind him, covered his hands with his own, gently trying to pry them loose from their white knuckled grip on the rails.

"Tell me," Jack ordered softly. "Tell me what's wrong."


	7. Chapter 7

**Thank you to everyone who is still reading. I didn't mean for it to turn out this long!**

All they'd wanted was an ordinary evening. Ordinary. That commodity so rare and wonderful, so prized in the world of Torchwood. A dinner that wasn't cancelled by a rift alert. A nice restaurant. Good food. Wine. And it had started that way.

Surely it wasn't such a tragedy, someone from Ianto's 'real life' seeing them together. He hadn't even seemed to mind, at first. But now Ianto was silent. Not the silence of contentment, the silence that was comfortable because they knew each other well enough not to need to fill the spaces with meaningless chatter. This was the silence of the unsaid. Of secrets and pain.

The moon danced across the water, lacing the waves with silver threads. They leaned side by side against the rails on the jetty. It should have been the perfect setting. But in the perfect setting Ianto wouldn't be standing frozen, hands locked around the railings, tension in every muscle, eyes focused unseeingly across the marina.

"You really want to meet Rhiannon, then?" he asked dully.

"Of course I want to," Jack answered. "But not if it's gonna do this to you. I can wait."

"It's not that." Ianto protested. "I do want you to meet her. I want her to meet you."

Jack moved behind him, covered his hands with his own, gently trying to pry them loose from their white knuckled grip on the rails.

"Tell me," Jack ordered softly. "Tell me what's wrong."

A shudder ran through Ianto's body. "I've been lying to you," he said. "And once you've met my sister, it'll all start to come out. So I have to tell you the truth."

Jack rested his head on Ianto's and waited.

"My dad wasn't a master tailor." Ianto said hollowly. "He worked for Debenhams."

"And you said I was a shit," Jack hissed. "Is this payback for embarrassing you before?" But he was as much relieved as angry.

"He wasn't a tailor." Ianto continued woodenly. "He was an arse. I adored him, and he despised me. I was never what he wanted for a son."

Not a joke then. He would have preferred a joke. Ianto's adulthood so far had been mostly trauma. He should at least have had a decent childhood. Jack hated the universe sometimes.

"The things you told us about him," Jack prompted. "Where did they come from?"

"The Electro," Ianto said, still using the same lifeless voice that didn't sound remotely like him. "I said he took me there on Saturdays. Kids movies. But he didn't. I used to go by myself. I was supposed to be playing football. Something to toughen me up, he said. So he signed me up for football at the oval across town. Never came with me though, just put me on the bus. I hated it. Bloody nose most weeks. Mud. Chasing after a stupid ball and half-killing each other to get it. I wanted to quit after two matches. But he said it would make a man out of me, that I'd go or else. So I went. But then, oh about five weeks in, I think, I saw the Electro through the bus window. After that I just got off at that stop and spent the morning at the movies instead of at the oval." He paused, staring blindly across the water. "Remember I got caught shoplifting?"

"On your record," Jack agreed. "Just the once."

"Just the one time I got caught," Ianto corrected. "He only gave me enough for bus fare. I stole the money for the movie tickets. Stole food too. Every week for that whole season. After the movie I'd find a patch of dirt, mess up my clothes. Get back on the bus and pretend I'd been on the oval. But then I got caught stealing, and it all came out. Dad was furious. He beat me senseless that night."

Jacks forget about trying to pry those stubborn fingers loose and wrapped his arms tightly around Ianto's waist instead.

"I don't remember that it hurt," Ianto said in a voice that was obviously meant to be soothing. "All I can remember is Mam and Rhiannon, crying. I didn't," he added, with a strange pride in his voice. "I didn't cry. They did it for me. He said he'd keep going if I cried like a girl. So I didn't."

Silence. Jack got his breathing and his anger under control. "It's in the past, Ianto. He's gone."

"There's more, though. I want you to know. I don't want to lie to you anymore."

If he needs to talk, Jack thought, I have to let him. But if I could get this wristband working I'd go back and kill that piece of shit myself. Slowly. Drag out every tear he wouldn't let my Ianto shed.

"The playground." Ianto continued. "Mam made him take us Sundays, while she cooked lunch. We loved it, Rhi and me. Loved the old wooden swings. Then they put new ones in. Flimsy-looking plastic. Higher. We didn't want to go on them. But he put us on anyway. Angry 'cause we were fussing." His voice had dropped into a childlike cadence. "He pushed too hard. Too high. I didn't hang on properly. Came off. Broke my leg. And it hurt. God, it hurt. I could see the bone sticking through the skin. Scared the hell out of me. Rhi saw it and started bawling. So did I. I was just a kid." His voice broke. "Kids are allowed to cry, aren't they Jack?"

Tears ran from Jack's eyes into Ianto's hair. "Everyone's allowed to cry, Ianto."

"Dad didn't think so," Ianto answered. "Said I had to stop. Slapped me across the back of the head and told me to be a man. Cause no son of his was gonna turn into a poofter."

Inside Jack's head every little detail dropped neatly into place. Like the random spikes of Rift energy coalescing into a recognizable pattern. Here, here and here. Join the dots and it means the Judoon are on their way. But now he remembered every uncertain word, every half-hearted protest, every time he'd flinched away from being touched. The way his eyes had dropped, in those early days, whenever he'd seen Jack watching him. The confusion. The guilt, sometimes. And I just thought he was being coy, Jack realized. Playing games. Teasing. But of course I didn't understand. How could I? No one that was supposed to love me ever tried to make me hate myself.

The sobs were coming out now, finally. All those tears from all those years ago. Jack caught him as the tense muscles collapsed, cradling him tenderly in his arms. Like the child he never got to be. Somehow they ended up on a soft patch of grass. Weeping together, one from the pain, one _for_ the pain. Because real men do cry. Strong men cry. Strong women too. And bug-eyed aliens. Because pain is universal. And tears are given to make the unbearable bearable.

Strong. Jack thought. He's so strong. He's been through so much. He's _survived_ so much. It should have broken him but it didn't. He didn't let it. And he's become this. This amazing, gentle, brave, compassion being. My beautiful Welshman. My love.

He didn't know exactly when the thoughts became words, when the love words spilled from his mind to his lips, from his lips to the ears of the man he loved. But he heard the protests when they began. "Don't. Don't. _Please_ don't. I can't."

He's given me everything, and he's torn himself apart to do it, and I keep pushing for more. "Sssh. It's OK. I won't. I won't ask anymore."

"I'm sorry Jack."

"Don't," Jack said sharply, earning a weak smile. "Don't you dare apologize, Ianto Jones."

"But it was so long ago. God, look at me, I'm a mess." Jack breathed a sigh of relief at the sudden change in tone. Back to normal. Any minute now he'll realize he's sitting on my lap in the dirt and he'll jump up and start dusting us off.

"I am looking," Jack assured him. "One of my favorite pastimes."

"And I shouldn't have dumped it all on you," Ianto continued, either not hearing or just ignoring the frivolous comment. "I don't know why I did."

"I do," Jack said. "It's obvious actually. Should have realized before."

Ianto waited through an annoying silence. "Are you going to tell me?"

"Because you love me," Jack said confidently.

"Damn it Jack. You promised."

"I promised I wouldn't say it. And I didn't."

"Semantics," Ianto grumbled.

"A loophole," Jack countered. "But it's OK. I won't push it. I don't need to anymore."

Jack got to his feet carefully, Ianto still in his arms. "You can put me down now."

"But I don't want to," Jack said. Because up close like this, he could see the peace in Ianto's eyes. Peace which had never been there before. And some tiny irrational part of him was afraid that it would vanish if he looked away.

"This is silly. I'm quite capable of standing up. Walking, even. There's nothing wrong with me."

"You never said a truer word. There's absolutely nothing wrong with you."

Ianto sighed, defeated. "If you're going to carry me, the least you could do is kiss me while you're at it."

And sometime during that kiss, he did manage to get his feet back down on the ground. Just as well, really, because Jack's legs had started trembling. And the rest of him.

They broke apart eventually. "I seem to remember that this was supposed to be a quiet evening at a nice restaurant," Ianto said. "Why doesn't anything ever work out the way it's supposed to? We didn't even get dessert."

A smile spread slowly across Jack's face. "We were never gonna have dessert there. I had other plans."

"Do I want to know?"

Jack smirked. "In the fridge at home," he said. "Is a jar of chocolate body paint with your name on it."

Ianto stifled a groan. "You insisted on 200 thread count sheets," he said in a strangled voice.

"But I bought chain store cotton too," Jack assured him. "For contingencies."

They argued all the way back to the car. Holding hands. There was no one around, after all.

**A/N: A bit cliché I know but at least I didn't leave them walking off into the sunset. They're creatures of the night so it had to be the moon. Should I leave it here? Or go ahead and do the C O E bit?**


	8. Chapter 8

**Sorry this is so long. It got away from me and I couldn't find a good place to split it. (Open to suggestions on that, if this is really too much to read in one hit.)**

**So, change of pace, different perspectives, and a bit of fun before the 456 arrive.**

**TimeLine: During and after The Stolen Earth.**

_The Earth had moved. Not in a good way. The Daleks arrived. And the Earth surrendered._

_The sub wave network. Harriet Jones. You can always count on a Jones. Humanity was fighting back._

"_I've gotta find the Doctor," Jack yelled. And "I'm coming back." And he was gone. _

Jack was with the Doctor. Again. The world could be ending and Ianto Jones was spending the last moments of existence being jealous.

On the other hand, there was work to do. Daleks in the Hub. And Gwen was beside him, urging him to fight. Gwen, the only one who'd tried to understand about Lisa. Gwen, who, contrary to all his expectations, had never ever told the others about finding him and Jack making love in the Hub. Had he ever thanked her, for either of those? No. Too busy resenting Gwen for all the times Jack's eyes had lingered on her. He'd cut in at her own wedding, for goodness sake, because he couldn't bear seeing Jack holding her so close.

Their eyes met before they raised their guns. And in that moment, they became friends. Closer than friends. Family. Pity they were about to be exterminated.

Their bullets froze in mid air. The Time Lock had activated, with the Daleks on the other side. Tosh had reached out from the dark and saved them. Bless you Tosh. Goodbye my friend, and thank you.

Ianto met Gwen's eyes. "Coffee?" he suggested.

"We're going to be stuck here for a while," Gwen agreed. "Maybe you could teach me how that damn machine works?"

Time passed. Gwen's coffee-making skills progressed to the point of acceptable, if not to the degree of Coffee Mage. The Time Lock dissolved. The Daleks were defeated. They harnessed the power of the Rift and sent it to the Doctor. The Earth was back. So was Jack.

The CCTV showed him on the perception filter lift with two other people. Martha and a tough-looking young man. Gwen bolted to meet them. Ianto fled up the staircase. Because if he was within grabbing distance when the cog rolled back he'd make an absolute fool out of himself. Again. That sort of thing could wait until they got home. Assuming Jack was going to come home. He might just be planning on dropping off his friends and rejoining the Doctor.

Jack entered first. His arms enfolded Gwen but his eyes searched the Hub. Where the hell was he? Not behind her, not to the left, not to the right. Jack finally looked up. OK, I'm in trouble, he thought. He's not angry, I could handle that. He's cold. Shut down. Doesn't he trust me _yet_?

Jack made the introductions in a voice that carried across the Hub.

"You know Martha, guys. She and Mickey are gonna help us when bits of Dalek start pouring through the Rift."

Within moments Mickey and Martha were on either side of Gwen, being shown the finer points of Rift Monitoring. But Ianto could see they weren't really watching the monitor system. They were looking at each other instead. Sideways and corner of the eye glances, but all with the same look. Ianto recognized it. He'd seen it before. He'd felt it before. In a warehouse with a pterodactyl. It didn't matter that the ring on Martha's finger had been given to her by someone else. Ianto had had someone else too. And Jack had several someone else's. But you couldn't dodge the look for long. It kept coming back at you. Ianto hoped she'd let her fiancé down gently.

"They look good together, don't they?" Jack said with a hint of smugness, appearing silently at Ianto's side. His hand landed on Ianto's shoulder, squeezing tightly before dropping slowly away. Not the greeting he wanted to give. He'd much prefer to drag his lover into his office and celebrate helping to save the world. Celebrate being back with him, more to the point. But they weren't alone, and they were in the workplace. With visitors. He wanted Martha and Mickey to join the team. They were hardly going to be impressed by the sight of the boss groping the employees. Professionalism. Damn.

"Are you matchmaking?" Ianto asked with a hint of reproof. And a complete lack of warmth.

"No need, is there? I remember that look." Jack turned his head slightly. There it was again. "Don't you?"

"I suppose so," Ianto said, thawing slightly. "A long time ago."

"With a pterodactyl. Where's Myfanwy, anyway?"

"Sulking," Ianto said. "I ran out of chocolate."

"Not unlike someone else." Jack nudged Ianto with his elbow. "I told you I'd come back. If you were here to come back to."

"So you did." He paused, swallowed. Asked the question he was afraid to ask. "Are you leaving again? Is the Doctor waiting?"

"No. And No." He _doesn'_t trust me. I thought he did but he really doesn't. "Did you miss me?"

"Not at all."

"Liar."

"I was busy," Ianto informed him calmly. "Little matter of Daleks in the Hub. And teaching Gwen how to make coffee. And what else? Oh yes, harnessing the Rift so that you lot of heroes could get on with saving the universe. Thanks for that, by the way. It's nice to still be alive. And we've still got a planet to be alive on. Good work."

"I'm jealous. You've never taught me how to make coffee."

"You didn't want to learn."

They had each unconsciously edged nearer while talking. By now they were standing so close together that Mickey had started eyeing them with speculation.

"Haven't you got a home to go to, Mickey Mouse?" Jack demanded, leaning forward over the rails.

Mickey flashed them a smile and headed up the staircase. Martha looked up, waved at Ianto, and finally began concentrating on what Gwen was trying to show her.

"No home," Mickey said, "Not in this universe."

He extended a hand towards Ianto. "Mickey Smith."

Ianto shook. Firm handshake. Deep, dark eyes laughing defiantly at the universe.

"Ianto Jones."

"I've heard a lot about you Torchwood people," Mickey said, smiling broadly. An infectious smile you couldn't help returning. Ianto liked him instantly. "I think someone's trying to recruit me," he added.

Jack grinned. "Doing my not-so-subtle best," he agreed. He elbowed Ianto again. "I've hooked him," Jack said. "You reel him in."

"I don't suppose you're a relative," Mickey said hopefully, jerking his head back towards Martha.

"Afraid not," Ianto answered. "Just a friend."

"You could still put in a good word for me."

"She's engaged," Ianto told him. Not that it'd make much difference. That look.

"To a Doctor," Jack added.

"That'd be right," Mickey said. "But I reckon I'm about due for a win, don't you, Captain Cheesecake?"

"Beefcake," Jack corrected. He looked teasingly at Ianto. "What am I, cheese or beef?"

"Ham," Ianto answered, rolling his eyes. Mickey laughed. A big, booming laugh. "Good one," he chuckled.

"Jack," Gwen called. "Dalek artifacts starting to drop in. And we're getting reports of debris from the ones already here that people managed to destroy. What do you want us to do?"

"On my way," Jack called. He turned back to Mickey. "There's a bed in my office. You can have that until you've found somewhere to live. I don't use it anymore." The smile he cast at Ianto spoke volumes. "I've got a real home now."

Ianto felt the muscles in his shoulders tighten. Would he ever stop feeling this sense of apprehension whenever someone – anyone – 'found out'? The silence stretched as they watched Jack take the stairs two at a time.

Mickey punched Ianto gently on the shoulder. "Nice to know he's finally got someone to keep him in line."

"I try," Ianto agreed. The surge of relief at the approval was almost as annoying as the apprehension. Then again, this _was_ one of Jack's oldest friends. Someone's whose opinion really did matter. "With a staggering lack of success. Do you want to see where you're going to be sleeping?"

The bunker was dusty. Archive boxes were stacked haphazardly in the centre, with the mattress propped on its end against the wall. The room hadn't been used for a while, except as somewhere to store whatever hadn't been archived yet. Hadn't had much time for the archives since they'd lost Tosh and Owen. And as always, the memories brought their own stab of pain.

"Didn't realize it was this bad," Ianto said apologetically. "I'll have it clean in an hour."

"Half hour if I help," Mickey answered. "Point me to a broom."

Mickey was easy to work with. The others had always been happy to help create a mess, but had usually been mysteriously busy when the time came to clean up. It would be nice, Ianto thought wistfully, to have someone on the team who'd never known him as the Teaboy.

Twenty minutes later Jack's voice boomed through the Hub. "Collection run, boys and girls."

"I think that's us being summoned," Mickey commented.

Ianto looked around the bunker. "Habitable. We can go for comfortable tomorrow."

"Yep, thanks mate. Let's go see what Captain Cheesecake's got for us."

Ianto smiled as they climbed up the ladder. "Why do you call him that?"

"Cause it annoys him." Mickey answered smugly.

The sound of Ianto's laughter rang through the Hub. Jack could see how comfortable he was with Mickey and rethought his plan for tonight's cleanup mission. He'd intended to take Ianto with him and pair Mickey and Martha. But that wasn't practical. If they had – Goddamn it not again – issues to sort out it would endanger both of them. And Mickey and Martha would be almost as bad. Mickey was only halfway down the stairs and the two of them were eye-flirting already. And she was engaged to another man. He'd have something to say about that while they were out.

"OK," Jack announced when they were all assembled. "We've got a major clean up. We made a hell of a mess up there and it's raining down through the Rift. And that's not counting the ones that got destroyed down here. We're going to split into two. Ianto, you take the meat-wagon and Mickey." The meat-wagon was a nondescript white van, normally used for body recovery. An unmarked hearse, basically. "Martha and I will be in the SUV. Gwen's coordinating. She'll be sending locations via the PDAs. There are probably looters in the streets so I want everyone armed."

Ianto had just finished arming Mickey when Jack entered the armory. "I need more bullets," he commented. "Shot myself out up there."

Mickey eyes flicked between the two of them. "Gonna say goodbye to Martha," he said vaguely. "See ya outside mate."

"What do you think of him?" Jack asked, as they loaded their firearms.

"I like him," Ianto answered. "Can't say more than that yet."

"He's good with computers. Hacking," Jack commented, around the lump in his throat that was Tosh. He could see Ianto having the same struggle.

"We do need someone," he agreed finally. "And a medic. Martha?"

"I hope so," Jack agreed. "But she'd have to stay out of the field. She won't carry a gun."

Ianto looked at him enquiringly. "Shouldn't she be coordinating then?"

"I'll keep her covered. She's experienced with Daleks. Up close and personal, she was."

And suddenly he couldn't keep the professionalism going anymore. "It did occur to me you wouldn't be here to come back to," he said tentatively.

"There were Daleks," Ianto agreed. "We were lucky Tosh got the time lock finished before…."

"It wasn't the Daleks I was worried about," Jack interrupted.

"Not now, Jack. Later. At home. If we get home tonight. This is going to take hours."

"So I can come home, then?" The weight vanished from Jack's chest.

"Mickey's sleeping in your bunker," Ianto pointed out. "And I don't get the feeling he'd be happy to share, at least not with you. He doesn't like cheesecake."

Jack laughed, torn between relief and annoyance at not getting a straight answer. But they'd sort it out. It was going to be OK. And if there was ever a time for the forehead thing, this was it.

Martha hunted through a pile of metal. "Look at this Jack. This eyestalk has paint on it."

Jack examined it. "Humans in adversity. Fighting back with anything they can find. And it was a good idea, whoever had it. Pity it wouldn't work."

Martha climbed up into the back of the SUV and stacked the pieces Jack passed up to her.

"That's the back full," she announced.

"We've still got the back seat," Jack said. They climbed back into the SUV and set off for the next point. It was late. Or early, depending on what direction you were viewing the day from. The streets were deserted. Not even any looters.

Martha sighed. Jack glanced across. There were tears in her eyes. "You OK?" he asked, concerned.

"Just remembering," Martha said softly. "When I first met Tom. The year that wasn't. We spent a lot of time driving through the empty dark like this."

"And the Tom you're with now? Doesn't he measure up?"

Martha twisted the ring on her finger. "Of course he does. He's amazing." She watched the rain pattering on the windscreen for a moment before continuing.

"But I keep falling for the same man, Jack" she said sadly. "A Doctor with a mission that'll always mean more to him than I do. Tom's in Africa, saving the starving. And after that it'll be somewhere else. I can't argue with that, can I? Especially when we both know I'd take off if the Doctor needs me. We've postponed the wedding twice. I haven't seen him for over a month. And we talk once a week, if we're lucky. We hardly know each other any more. It's falling apart."

"You could go to him," Jack suggested.

"I can't do the traveling thing anymore," Martha said sadly. "I can't keep leaving my family. They need me. I need them."

Jack covered her hand with his. "I'm sorry, Martha."

She looked back at him bravely, wiping away the tears. "Better I found out now. While there's still time to back out."

They drove in silence to the next pickup point. Disappointing. Not Dalek weaponry. Just some of the usual Rift flotsam.

"Couple of blasters worth keeping," Jack commented, disarming them and tossing them into the back seat.

Martha looked at them and shuddered. "I still hate weapons," she commented.

"That could be a problem," Jack warned her. "I want you to stay on as medic, but I can't send you out with the team unarmed."

"And I'd go crazy stuck in that cellar you call a workplace," Martha added. "So I suppose that's a no to the job offer. If that's what it was."

"Damn."

They collected the next pile of remains. "There's still room in the back seat," Martha announced, climbing back down. "Where next?"

Jack checked the PDA. "That's it," he said, surprised. "Doesn't make sense." He paused. "Unless Gwen's decided it's home time. Quite possible."

"Office mum, then?" Martha suggested.

"In a way," Jack agreed. "Especially since we lost…." His voice choked off.

Martha squeezed his hand. "I'm sorry, Jack. I'll help out whenever you need me. But it's like I said before, my family needs me more. I hate not being there when one of them has a flashback, and there's no one else that can help them. I don't think I'll even stay with Unit much longer."

Jack gunned the engine. "Time we headed back." He fell silent. Wondering whether Ianto was back yet. Whether he'd wait for him at the Hub or just go straight home without him.

A deep chuckle roused him from his musings.

"Never thought I'd see the day," Martha said. The smile on her face was soft and affectionate.

"What?" Jack asked defensively.

"You're acting like a teenager," she told him, eyes dancing. "With a mammoth crush."

"I'm not that transparent, am I?" Jack asked mournfully.

"On the way to your Hub," Martha said, ticking off points on her fingers, "you were supposedly giving us the recruitment spiel. But a certain name managed to creep into every third sentence. And you stopped three times at water fountains to make sure your face was clean. And you fixed your hair in shop windows twice. And…"

"Stop," Jack groaned.

"And I'm so happy for you I could burst," Martha finished extravagantly.

Jack glared at her briefly. The smile didn't dim a single watt. And this was Martha. They'd suffered together. The Valiant. And unrequited love for the Doctor. She was the only other person in the universe who knew how that felt. He trusted her.

"He's bloody angry with me," Jack confessed. "Because I left him for the Doctor again. Actually, not angry. Worse than that. It hurt him. _I _hurt him."

"So make up," Martha said patiently.

"Yeah, until next time," Jack agreed gloomily. "If the Doctor needs me, I have to go." He looked at her almost pleadingly. "I have to. Don't I?"

"Of course," Martha agreed. "But that doesn't mean you have to leave Ianto behind. The Doctor let Rose bring Mickey whenever she wanted, didn't he?"

Jack smiled. Relief flooded through him. Why hadn't he ever thought of that? "Voice of a nightingale, mind of a genius. Thank you, Martha Jones."

"Nothing easier than fixing someone else's problems," she said, with a hint of sadness in her voice.

Jack suddenly remembered the eye-flirting with Mickey and tried not to smile. She wouldn't be alone long. "There's someone out there who'll put you before anyone, Martha. I'm sure of it. And you deserve it." _And he's probably waiting back at the Hub._

"That," Martha said. "Is the sort of thing you always hear from someone who's besotted."

"Martha my love," Jack said. "Just shut up."

Mickey settled himself into the passenger seat of the van and smiled. "I'm good in vans. I had one just like this chasing Cybermen in that parallel universe. Oi, what'd I say?"

Ianto had turned pale.

"Cybermen," Ianto said tightly. "I was at Canary Wharf. They got my girlfriend."

"I'm sorry mate. They got my friends too. Across two universes."

Which killed the conversation. No more chat until they were loading the first dismembered Dalek into the van. Looked like someone had dropped a house on it.

"This looks like an eggbeater," Ianto commented.

"A weapon," Mickey corrected. He grinned. "They beat you to death with it."

"That's woeful." They both chuckled.

"So what's Jack like as a boss?" Mickey asked curiously, as they climbed back into the front seats.

"A complete arse, when he has to be," Ianto answered bluntly. He checked the PDA, selected a location and keyed the GPS. Instruction scrolled onto the screen.

"Details," Mickey demanded. "Here give me that. I'll read it out as we go."

Ianto ran through a mental list before speaking. "He Retconned Gwen when she first found out about Torchwood. He made Tosh send her boyfriend back into the past to face a firing squad, and he suspended Owen when he was suicidal. Oh and he had a gun to my head once, too. Wanted me to execute what was left of my girlfriend. How's that for detail?"

"Bit rough, coming from you," Mickey said. "Considering. Turn right at that roundabout."

"Would you have believed me if I'd said anything nice?" Ianto asked pointedly.

"Nah. I will now though. I see your point. That's the next lot over there."

"I think this was one of mine," Mickey said proudly as they loaded charred remains into the van. He examined a section of plating. "Yep. Nice gun, I had. Had to leave it."

"Maybe we'll find it tonight," Ianto said encouragingly.

Mickey sighed. "I can hope."

They climbed back into the van. "Did he really do all that?" Mickey asked curiously.

"Yes. And he was right. But no one else would have done it."

"Someone always has to make the crap decisions," Mickey agreed. "And the rest of us get to feel all noble bagging them for it."

They smiled at each other. "He's a good boss though." Ianto said. "And a good man."

"You gonna forgive him for taking off after the Doctor then?"

Ianto looked at the other man in shock. "How did you know?"

Mickey smiled sadly. "Been there. My girlfriend, Rose. She went with the Doctor and she never came back to me, except to visit. She got the Doctor to take me with them sometimes, but it was always him first with her."

"I'm sorry," Ianto said. "I know how that feels."

"No you don't, mate," Mickey said firmly. "He's come back, hasn't he?"

Ianto considered it. "Twice, now," he agreed. He sighed. "I think I've been an idiot."

Mickey grinned. "Don't tell him that. The gloating would be just about unbearable, I reckon."

Ianto laughed. "I'll be careful. But I'm going to have to apologise. Which will give me quite enough to put up with."

"Now that's depressing," Mickey said, shaking his head. "I knew women do that crap to us, but I didn't think blokes did it to each other."

Two more sites. No more room in the van. "We'll have to go back and unload," Ianto decided.

"Got your groveling shoes on?" Mickey asked, as they arrived back at the Hub.

"Maybe he's not back yet," Ianto muttered.

"That black SUV is out the front," Mickey said cheerfully. "I noticed on the way in."

Ianto sighed. "Wish me luck."

Mickey slapped his back reassuringly. "You can always put him on short rations. That'd about kill him, that would."

Ianto choked. "Doesn't it bother you at all?" he burst out.

"What, you and him? Why should it? Just cause he's not my cup of tea, doesn't mean I can't see he's not two-day-old liver. Don't tell him I said that, though."

"I just…Hell, I don't know."

Mickey looked at him appraisingly. "If it bothers _you_, mate, I'd hate to see your bill from the psychiatrist."

"If I saw a psychiatrist," Ianto said gloomily. "It'd mean a nice soft cell. Might be a pleasant change, at that."

Jack was arguing with Gwen as Mickey and Ianto passed through the cog. "I know there was more, Gwen. Why did you stop?"

"I sent the boys in the van after the bigger pieces," Gwen explained. "We've collected nearly everything that was registering as a weapon. And Unit is moving in, so if you'd stayed out you'd be fighting them for the dregs, and they might try to grab what you'd already got. Besides which, it's 3am and I'm falling asleep on my feet. And Ianto's here," she added softly. "You've avoided him long enough, Jack."

Jack looked from Gwen to Martha in annoyance. "Exactly when did this become any of your business, ladies?"

Martha tapped her chin thoughtfully, eyes wide with innocence. She raised her hands and formed quote marks in the air, "Could you get me a Unit cap? Cause Ianto would look good in it?" She dropped her hands. "Something along those lines. If you're going to turn me into an accomplice for your games, Jack, I get to have an opinion, too."

"And when I asked what you'd do while I was on honeymoon," Gwen added, making her own set of quote marks, "Pizza, Ianto, Save the Earth." She looked at Martha. "I've been too scared to ask whether that was one at a time or simultaneously."

"Besides," Gwen added seriously, "He's my friend, too. And you're both being a bit, um, well, silly is the only word for it, really."

Jack looked at Martha sourly. "Just as well you're not staying. You're having a bad effect on discipline."

"Go," Martha ordered, making shooing motions with her hands.

Jack trudged away. No other word to describe it. It was a trudge. Gwen giggled.

"I'd never get away with that!" she said admiringly.

"He's not _my_ boss," Martha pointed out.

Jack saw Ianto stumble as he came through the cog. Mickey had shoved him. Great, we're getting it from both sides. I'm beginning to agree with his stance on public affection. Results in too much interference.

They stopped within touching distance, but neither reached across the empty space.

"What's going on?" Ianto asked, eyes flicking towards the two women, who weren't even trying to pretend not to stare.

"We've got friends, apparently," Jack answered. "And they seem to think we can't sort anything out without their help."

Ianto smiled. "Mickey did help though." He looked into Jack's eyes. "I'm sorry."

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. "So am I. And Martha helped too, I suppose. But I already thanked her, so I wish she'd go away and let us get onto the making up."

Ianto turned back to Mickey. "Sod off, would you?" he said loudly. "And take them with you."

Mickey laughed that booming laugh. "You ladies want to see my bedroom?" he called.

"Some other time," Martha yelled back. "Too much going on out here."

"Women," Mickey grumbled. But he smiled broadly at Ianto. "Wasn't a No though, was it?" He slapped Ianto on the back again, accidentally on purpose using enough force to knock him closer to Jack, and headed for the staircase.

Martha and Gwen were sitting comfortably on the desks. Still watching.

"I'm so not giving them the satisfaction," Jack said softly. He tugged the SUV keys out of his pocket and held them out. "Take me home?"

Ianto took the keys. "First time for everything, huh?" He flicked his eyes towards the girls again. Whispering to each other. Gwen must be explaining. Yep, done. Martha's eyes were misty too.

"I'm beginning to understand why you love public performances so much," he commented. "Turns strong women into mush. Funny. Shall we throw them a crumb?" Jack smiled.

"My sort of crumb, though," Ianto added. "Hold still." He took Jack's face between his hands and gently kissed his forehead. Then his closed eyes, one at a time.

"Keep going," Jack murmured. "I wanna hear sobs. They deserve it."

"You'll have to settle for tears," Ianto said, pulling back slightly. "Which we've got. Yep, both of them. Let's go home." He raised his voice. "Show's over, ladies."

The sound of applause followed them through the door.

The dawning sun leaked through the windows. Jack reached up and tugged the blinds closed, then dropped down onto the bed and pulled Ianto back into his arms.

"We're not going back into the Hub today," he decided. "Unless the world needs saving again. You need sleep."

"We've been home for nearly two hours," Ianto answered, "And that's the first time you've mentioned sleep." But even saying the word made him yawn.

"It was number four on my to-do list," Jack said.

Ianto frowned. "Four?"

"One, get you home," Jack recited. "Two," he smiled broadly. "Do you want a description of that? Because it might be almost as much fun to talk about as it was to do it." Ianto blushed. "Three," he prompted.

"Number three." Jack stopped, making sure he had his attention. "Talk."

"What is there to say?" Ianto said, trying not to sound bitter. "If the Doctor calls, you'll go. If you survive, you'll come back. Does that about cover it?"

"I want you to understand," Jack said pleadingly. "I need you to understand. What the Doctor does, it's…"

"The most important thing in all the universes," Ianto finished. "I do understand. I saw what he did, you know. And he needed all those people helping him. I could see he couldn't have done it alone. And he trusts you. I get it. I wouldn't even ask you to stay if he called. I wouldn't _let _you stay, come to that."

"Then why….Why did you shut down on me?"

"I was jealous, damn it. Couldn't you see that? You love him."

"I love _you_, you little idiot," Jack snapped, jerking his head back before Ianto's hand could cover his mouth. "OK, I know. Don't. Don't. Don't. Tough. I've said it."

There was a silence. A hostile silence. Only with him, Jack thought, fighting the impulse to laugh, could I be stark naked and curled up together and still fighting. He's so stubborn. And he's so tired, he thought tenderly, watching the slow blinks as Ianto fought to stay awake. And I'm pathetic. Martha was right. Teenager, that's what he's turned me into. And I love it. What's the point in being immortal if I never get to feel young?

He settled them both back onto the pillows. "Sleep," he suggested. "We can finish arguing when you wake up. You'll have better ammunition when you can think clearly."

"I don't want to argue anymore," Ianto mumbled. "And stop being patronizing."

"Then stop being stubborn. Sleep."

The sun was streaming around the edges of the closed blinds when he woke. There were noises coming from the kitchen. Ianto bolted awake. He's going to blow up my coffee machine!

"I followed the instruction manual," Jack said proudly, placing two cups of coffee on the dining table. "And even I can make toast. Breakfast."

"Brunch," Ianto corrected. He sipped his coffee tentatively. "Not bad. You ground the beans too finely though. That's why it's a bit gritty."

"Critic," Jack grumbled.

"If I hadn't told you," Ianto said with a grand air of patience, "You'd never learn. Have you been into the Hub yet?"

"No. Called though. Mickey answered. All quiet. But he's decided not to stay."

"Damn. I like him."

"So do I," Jack agreed. "But he said he couldn't take orders from me. And he's right. He's used to operating on his own. No reason we can't keep in touch though."

"The Doctor's ex-companion club?"

"Very funny. And now," Jack said firmly, "We have an argument to finish."

Ianto eyed him suspiciously. "Are you enjoying this?"

"No, but the making up was good. And you said _I _was innovative."

"If that," said Ianto, "Is all you want to talk about, we might as well go to the Hub and get some work done."

Jack sighed. "I might have been trying to put it off. But we do have to sort this out. It's been causing problems from the start."

"I know," Ianto agreed. "OK. I've got a few more questions, then."

Jack pushed his plate away. "Go ahead."

"How many times did you die up there?"

"Once," Jack admitted. "Dalek got me."

"Was anyone with you when you woke up?"

"Are you _still_ jealous?" Jack asked incredulously.

"Yes," Ianto admitted.

"If what you're really asking is, was the Doctor holding me when I woke up, then No. He never has. He never will."

"Are you trying to convince me," Ianto asked perceptively, "Or yourself?"

"Possibly both," Jack conceded. "But it's the truth."

"You hate waking up alone after you've died," Ianto said, eyes flashing. "And you shouldn't have to. Doesn't he know that? Doesn't he care?"

"He cares about everything, Ianto, but sometimes he misses the details." Here goes, Jack thought. Hope you were right, Martha. "But I _wouldn't_ have to, if you came with me. Next time. If there is a next time. Will you?"

Ianto snorted. "I'm sure the Doctor would love that."

"Actually, he would. There's plenty of room on the Tardis, and he likes company. And you'd love it out there. And," Jack concluded triumphantly, "There's a precedent. He let Rose bring her boyfriend along plenty of times. That's how I met Mickey."

Another silence. Not hostile anymore. "I seem to remember you complaining about the way we hang labels on each other this century," Ianto said thoughtfully.

"Yeah, so do I. Second date, wasn't it? So?"

"So did you just hang one on me?"

"Guess I did. Call it my attempt to integrate. You haven't answered yet. And I'm not letting you make your own coffee until you do."

"Threats, now?"

"Answer. Now."

Ianto rose and walked to the other side of the table. Into waiting arms. "Haven't you noticed yet?" he asked, "That I go anywhere you take me?"


	9. Chapter 9

**Timeline: The night before Day 1, CoE. **

**Thanks to everyone who is reading. Hope you are still enjoying! **

The wind shrieked across the bay, tugging at the hems of their coats and biting through to the skin beneath. Gwen had encouraged them both to go home early, insisting that Rhys was working overtime. Actually bullied was probably a better word than encouraged. Gwen and Ianto had become close friends since the evening they'd spent locked in the Hub with Daleks outside. And she'd become as protective of his 'real life' as Jack was of hers. She made sure they had time out of the Hub together. And it helped.

"Lousy night," Jack commented. "Do you want to grab something to eat, or just go straight home?"

"Home," Ianto decided. "We could get takeaway though, if you want."

"Nah," Jack said, with an attempt at casualness. "If we're eating in, I'll cook."

Ianto tried not to smile. Ever since Jack had worked out how to produce a good cup of coffee from the machine at home, he'd become a tad obsessed about mastering the rest of the kitchen. His culinary style was wildly experimental, frequently successful, but always incredibly messy. And, as at the Hub, he didn't seem to consider it necessary to clean up after himself.

"You cooked last time," Ianto answered, hoping to save himself a few hours of cleaning. "Must be my turn."

"It's OK," Jack said, obviously thinking he was being generous. "I don't mind."

"But Jack…" only he'd run out of excuses that wouldn't be offensive.

"Don't you like my cooking?" Jack asked in an injured tone.

"Your cooking's fine," Ianto answered. "You can cook every night, as far as I'm concerned, if you'd just consider cleaning up afterwards." There, it was out.

And of course Jack was offended. The SUV roared as he took his injured feelings out on the accelerator.

"I'd be happy to clean up," Jack said grumpily. "But what's the point when I know you'll only sneak back in and do it all again anyway?"

"I don't!" Ianto exclaimed.

Jack laughed, injured feelings soothed by the knowledge he'd the point. "Oh yes you do. The first time I cooked, you snuck out of bed when you thought I was asleep and redid all the bench-tops. I saw you."

"You used the wrong cleanser," Ianto protested weakly. But he knew he'd lost.

"Gotcha," Jack said smugly. "But," he added, as the SUV pulled into its space under their building. "Since you're feeling competitive…First one through the door cooks dinner." And with that, he vaulted out of the SUV and sped towards the lift.

"You're such a child, Jack," Ianto snapped at the retreating figure. But he ran after him anyway, unable to resist the challenge. Unable to resist any of Jack's games, to be honest, however hard he tried to fake disapproval. And he was in luck, because although Jack reached the lift well first, his elevator must have had to stop at other floors. Ianto arrived on their floor first and charged towards their door, feeling triumphant and ridiculous at the same time. Which he had to admit was becoming a fairly usual state of mind since Jack had moved in. And he wouldn't change a minute of it.

But of course Jack cheated. The other lift chimed as it opened, a long leg flew forward and tripped him, and they rolled along the hallway in a struggling tangle of limbs.

Ianto grasped the door handle, shoved his key in and twisted. "I win," he announced, victoriously. Jack was still hanging off his legs. "I don't care about winning," Jack said, a wicked grin on his face. "As long as I get a chance to grapple with you in public." He swept his own legs around, knocking Ianto off his feet. Ianto landed solidly on top of him and Jack proceeded to make the most of it. At which point there was the sound of someone clearing his throat. Loudly.

"You're home then, boys? And you nearly made it all the way through the door tonight. You're improving." Their elderly neighbor was standing in his doorway, watching them with a smile that creased his wrinkled face further.

"Good evening, Mr Williams," Ianto said, getting hurriedly to his feet.

Jack rose in a much more leisurely fashion. "I lost again, Bob," he said cheerfully.

"And he cheated," Ianto added. "He tripped me."

"I saw, lads, I saw. Highlight of my evening, you boys coming home. When you come home. Always something entertaining. Have you got plans for tonight?" He chuckled. "Apart from the obvious."

"Nothing that can't wait," Ianto assured him, ordering himself not to blush.

Bob sighed, the smile dropping from his face. "I cooked twice again," he told them. "You know how I get sometimes. Forgot I'd done it and started over. Would you both come and help me eat it all?"

"We'd love to," Jack agreed. He'd grown very fond of the old man who lived next door. Ianto had always kept an eye on him, but prior to Jack moving in it had been more out of a sense of duty that friendship. Torchwood duty. The old man had picked up an alien hitchhiker, which was living happily in his abdomen. It would have to be retrieved one day. No rush. It was a benevolent parasite, more helpful than harmful. It fed off intestinal flora and excreted endorphins. It made Bob Williams a happy man. When he remembered to be.

Unfortunately, he was also a victim of early stage Alzheimer', which accounted for his habit of cooking multiple meals through the day. On the other hand, he was a good cook, so it was no hardship helping him deal with the results. They ate at Bob's place at least once a week. Ianto had learnt to treasure these evenings, because they were one of the rare occasions outside of Torchwood when Jack was able to relax the guard he kept on his tongue. It never occurred to Bob's wandering mind to question how his young friend could remember events from sixty years ago. And no one would have believed him if he repeated Jack's stories anyway.

Ianto left the two of them to reminisce about times before he'd been born. He smiled contentedly at the soft laughter that followed him as he prowled through the flat. As he did whenever they visited, he searched for extra meals or anything else out of place, discreetly addressing anything that could prove hazardous to the health. He carefully timed his searches to end when the conversation flagged.

"What was the tally tonight?" Jack asked, as they let themselves back into their own flat.

"Casserole under the bed. Milk in the cupboard. Electric razor left on," Ianto responded. "It's been worse. How was he tonight?"

"A bit odd," Jack said thoughtfully. "He seemed to want to dwell on the darker places tonight. He got upset a time or two, a bit stressed."

"I noticed," Ianto agreed. He hesitated, not sure whether to mention the rest. "Um, you too, I thought."

"Yeah," Jack admitted. No point denying it. Ianto always picked up on it when he was uneasy. "Some of the stuff he brought up reminded me of…things I don't want to remember."

Ianto waited, giving him the chance to elaborate. The shadows of Jack's past drifted through their lives regularly, and it was easier on both of them if Jack volunteered information instead of having Ianto try to drag it out of him. The silence stretched on. Not this time, then.

"I switched Bob's bedroom monitor on," Ianto said finally, as if there'd been no delay. "We'll know if anything happens." Bob's security system sent a feed through to the terminal in their flat. Torchwood's CCTV extended beyond the Hub. Just in case Bob's hitchhiker got restless.

"It's an amazing co-incidence," Jack commented. "How you always manage to finish cleaning up after Bob just when we run out of things to talk about. Never while we're still talking."

Ianto smiled. "He's good for you," he said simply. "You relax when we're at his place. Usually."

"I like him," Jack agreed. He noticed the winking light on their landline. "Messages."

Ianto scrolled through the display. "Rhiannon," he announced. "I had to cancel dinner again. She'll want to reschedule." He picked up the handset, frowning in thought. "You've got that phone conference with the Prime Minister one night this week, haven't you? I could go and see her then."

"Wednesday," Jack confirmed. "But I thought you were sitting in."

"Priorities, Jack," Ianto said absently.

"Dinner with your sister is more important than the Prime Minister, is it?" Jack teased.

Ianto looked up at him. "It is to me. You know I want a chance to talk to her before she meets you." He looked away. "I thought it was important to you too. Guess I was wrong."

"I didn't mean it like that," Jack protested. "I hate phone conferences when you aren't there. I get bored. And my notes never make as much sense as yours. Oh, all right, Wednesday then. Go on, call her. Tell her the boss says Hi."

Ianto punched in her number. "Why don't you say Hi yourself?" he asked innocently.

"No," Jack said, a note of panic in his voice. "Not yet. She doesn't know who I am yet."

"Gotcha," Ianto said gleefully. Jack was eager to meet his sister and nervous about it, in approximately equal proportions.

Jack glowered briefly. "You're gonna regret that," he warned, and proceeded to make the phone call rather awkward via a series of unexpected gropes that lasted until Ianto slammed the handset down. Which led to an extended shower and an early bedtime.

Ianto was sleeping the sleep of the exhausted. Jack liked watching him sleep, even though it earned him a scolding when Ianto caught him watching. 'Sleep stalking' he called it. Wonder what he'd say if he knew the rest? Jack leaned down to break his promise – again. He pressed his lips against his lover's temple and whispered the "I love you," Ianto never allowed him to say. You're a sap, Harkness.

Ianto hadn't so much as twitched in his sleep. I really wore him out, Jack thought with amusement. But as much as they'd both enjoyed the process, Jack knew he'd kept his lover awake for the most selfish of reasons. He could feel nightmares waiting tonight. Torchwood's Captain was afraid to go to sleep. Talking with Bob Williams had taken Jack back to years he didn't want to remember. To one year. With twelve children.

No, he didn't want to sleep tonight. Those memories, those nightmares could wait. Wait for ever. The past couldn't be undone. Jack slid out of the bed, taking care not to disturb Ianto, and prowled into the lounge room, searching the DVD collection for a distraction.

Ianto had become used to Jack leaving the bed during the night and moving around in the flat. Jack really didn't need much sleep and Ianto much preferred to have him out there keeping himself occupied. He'd lost count of the times he'd woken to the sense of being watched, only to find Jack's face inches from his. Watching his nostrils move, had been one excuse. Or counting how many times his eyes moved beneath their lids. Stalker. Sleep stalker.

So the sounds of someone moving around in their flat no longer triggered any alarms in his subconscious. But tonight his mind swam groggily to the surface. These noises were different. Wrong. They were the sounds of pain. Ianto woke and followed the cries to the couch, sympathy and concern warring with annoyance. Because Jack must have known there was a nightmare coming, and crept away to hide it from him. Again. And he'd fallen asleep sitting up on the sofa. With the TV on. Infomercials. Jangling noise that wouldn't help matters in the least. Ianto turned the TV off and tried to break Jack out of the grip of the nightmare.

This was bad. Nothing was working. He couldn't wake him up.

"Come back," Jack muttered, thrashing in his sleep. Ianto dodged another blow from Jack's fists and tried once again to shake him awake. He'd already been hit twice.

"Jack? Jack? Wake up. It's me. I'm here."

Usually the sound of Ianto's voice was enough to bring Jack out of his nightmares, or at least calm him. But this time it actually seemed to make things worse. Jack flinched away, still asleep, face twisted with grief. "Forgive me," he mumbled.

Ianto seriously considered the 'glass of water in the face' option. Even though Jack had sulked for two days the first and only time he'd used that one. But he was running out of ideas. Talking was making it worse, shaking was having no effect. He'd even tried tickling, for goodness sake.

"Please come back," Jack moaned again. Arms windmilling, as if he was running. Running after something, or running away? One flailing arm connected with Ianto's shoulder, knocking him backwards. Third time lucky. He'd have a bruise tomorrow. But he didn't even consider trying to pin down Jack's arms. He knew from experience that would only trigger more nightmares. Take him straight back to the year hanging from handcuffs in the Valiant.

Ianto listened for a while as he considered his options. Definitely not the Valiant tonight. He never asked his torturers to come back, or begged for their forgiveness.

"Come back. Don't go. I'm sorry…I'm sorry. Forgive me." His voice was increasing in volume.

Desperate measures, Ianto thought. Could earn me a black eye, but I can't bear to listen to this anymore. He dived under the flailing arms and grabbed Jack tightly, getting his own arms as far around him as he could. Jack's arms thumped into his back painfully a time or two, fell limp, then closed around him in a desperate grip. Ianto sighed with relief. He was awake.

"Hey," he said softly, pulling back just enough to look into Jack's face. "That was a bad one."

"I noticed," Jack answered shakily.

"Why'd you come out here?"

"Didn't want to wake you," Jack answered.

"Didn't work," Ianto responded. "Now I'm awake and cold too. It's bloody freezing out here." He sighed. "Water?" Their usual post-nightmare routine. He wasn't really offering to get Jack a drink. He was offering him a chance to be alone. And something in him broke whenever Jack chose the alone.

"Stay with me." Jack said, answering the real question. He moved his head along Ianto's chest until he could feel the reassuring thud of a heartbeat beneath his ear. Somehow that sound helped bring his breathing back under control, helped calm his mind. Ianto tugged a blanket free from the back of the couch and draped it over both of them. Better.

"Not the Valiant," Ianto commented, running a gentle hand through Jack's hair.

"Not the Valiant," Jack agreed. _The children. Twelve children. I sent them into hell._

"Do you want to tell me?" An offer, not a demand. Ianto never pushed. Sometimes talking helped, sometimes it didn't. His choice. No pressure. Why did that make it harder to keep the secrets inside?

"I want to," Jack answered, "But I….I don't know if I can."

"I might be able to help," Ianto said softly. "You used to say I helped. That I kept the nightmares away. Guess that was just pillow talk, huh?"

"No," Jack pushed himself upright so that he could see Ianto's face. "You do help. But maybe not with these ones." He paused, fighting to get the words out. "You're in them."

"Don't like the sound of that," Ianto said calmly. "I don't mind being in your dreams, of course," which earned him a weak smile. "But exactly what am I doing in your nightmares?"

Jack rubbed a hand over his face. "Watching…..Watching me…..and leaving…."

"Whatever it is," Ianto said firmly. "I _will_ forgive you. I will."

"You offering blanket forgiveness?" Jack asked, trying to get his normal tone back. "That could be handy." But it _was_ helping. Giving him hope. Ianto might once have seen Jack the same way Gwen did, the hero, the enigma. But the façade was gone now. He didn't need it, didn't want it. Ianto knew that Jack was as weak and human as anyone else. He'd held him through nightmares and death and resurrection. Maybe he would understand, after all. Maybe he would forgive. And if he forgives me, maybe then I'll be able to forgive myself.

"You forgave me," Ianto responded. He choked over the next sentence. So hard to talk about, still. "You forgave _me_ for hiding a cyberwoman in the basement." The words felt like razors dragging along his throat. It still hurt. Brought back the rats. His stomach clenched. "Seems like I owe you a large chunk of forgiveness. If you trust me enough to tell me what I'm supposed to forgive you for."

"You know I trust you," Jack told him. "But…I'm….I wasn't always the way I am now. And I….." He broke off. How do I even say this? I brokered an alien abduction, but it was OK because it was just kids no-one wanted. It was OK, because I was just a heartless bastard then?

He stopped again. And tried again. "I did things. Things I wouldn't do now…." His heart hammered. The Ianto in his nightmare had looked at him with such disgust, turned away…..and gone after the children. Gone to the 456. They'd taken him, too. "I'm different now…."

"Stop," Ianto said calmly. "Breathe. You don't have to tell me anything. Or you can tell me everything. Except that," he cautioned, brushing an admonitory finger over Jack's mouth.

Jack smiled. "You're getting the don'ts out before I even get to say it. Unfair tactics." He was being managed, and he was grateful.

"Can we go back to bed though? I'm bloody freezing out here."

Jack smiled. He's not cold. He's giving me the chance to get my head straight. He's amazing. I _can_ tell him. I _will_ tell him.

And with faultless Torchwood timing, an alarm rang.

Jack leapt up. Ianto swore. Lousy bloody timing. But there was only one thing it could be. He snatched for the phone before Jack had even reached the monitor.

"It's Bob," Jack said. "I knew he wasn't right tonight."

Ianto was already talking to the emergency operator.

"I'll go to him," Jack announced, heading for the door. Wearing only the boxers he'd slept in.

Ianto covered the mouthpiece with his hand. "Clothes!" he hissed. Jack looked back, startled, then laughed shakily and headed for the bedroom. Still too shaken from the nightmare to notice a minor detail like being undressed. Concern for their neighbor warred with frustration. Whatever had triggered that dream, it was bad, and Jack had been so close to talking about it.

The ambulance was on its way. Ianto dressed hurriedly gathered some items from the kitchen. He hoped Bob would be all right, but it was best to be prepared. He looked at the items in his hands. Lazer saw, tongs and Tupperware. Hope they weren't needed.

They started resuscitation while waiting for the ambulance. Ianto on heart massage, Jack on respiration. Intent on helping their neighbor, their friend. All thoughts of nightmares and secrets and revelations gone from their minds.

Torchwood wins over real life. Again.


	10. Chapter 10

**Time line: Day Three, CoE. Just after Ianto delivered the stolen clothes. And before the beans.**

"Thanks for the clothes," Jack said, dropping onto the floor beside Ianto. "Kinda makes me feel more …..."

"Like yourself?" Ianto finished. Jack nodded. "I knew it would," Ianto said contentedly, leaning into the arm that dropped around his shoulder. "I had to do something. That tracksuit was annoying you. You were on the verge of ripping it off. And that would have upset Rhys. He hasn't gotten over seeing you naked when we got you out of the cement. I think," Ianto decided with a grin, "It made him feel inadequate."

"Does that mean I've got the biggest antlers, then?" Jack asked, remembering a long ago conversation.

"I haven't got a basis for comparison yet. Do you want me to check out Rhys antlers and get back to you?"

"You've gotten cheeky," Jack said, "Since you turned into a criminal."

They smiled into each others eyes. Content just to be together, for the moment.

"You scared the hell of out me, you know," Ianto said casually. "And annoyed the hell out of me too."

"I've done that a lot. Which time in particular?"

"You had a bomb in your stomach. That scared me."

"Yeah."

"And you sent me away. Threw me onto the lift like a piece of luggage. That annoyed me."

"You know I had to. I've always said you wouldn't die if I could stop it. So I did. Damn fine goodbye kiss, too."

Ianto shuddered. "You were blown to pieces, Jack. I was afraid," he stopped. "I was so afraid you couldn't come back from that. I wanted to stay with you."

"What good would that have done? You couldn't have stopped the bomb, Ianto. And you," Jack's breath caught. "_You_ would have died." He traced a finger along the wound that marred Ianto's cheek. "Bad enough that you were injured."

"It's nothing. Just a scratch."

"Just one that I can see. What else is there?"

Ianto waggled his eyebrows. "I'll show you later. If I can get us some privacy."

"Cheeky," Jack repeated. "But I like it." He leaned in slowly and kissed the injured cheek. Then along his jaw to his mouth, ears alert for any sound from inside, pulling away at the sound of Rhys' voice. The voice passed by, but the moment went with it. There was too much left to say. "Thanks for finding me," Jack said, thinking how inadequate the words were. "How did you do it?"

"Saw the car they took you away in. Traced the license plate. But I didn't get there in time. I wasn't with you when you woke up." Ianto's voice shook as he remembered the screams, remembered being too far away, too helpless.

"You were there. I knew you were. Somewhere. It helped."

"And then," Ianto's voice shook again. "The cement."

Their hands locked.

"You saw that?" Jack asked, in a voice that tried to be strong. "Not my finest moment."

"I saw it. I heard it." Those hadn't been screams. They'd been worse. He'd never heard Jack sound scared before. But the sounds he'd made as that choking, liquid death poured over him…it was the closest he'd ever known to Jack being broken. And he'd done nothing to stop it. Couldn't.

"Creative," Jack said, trying for lightness. "I've been buried alive, but no one's ever tried to turn me into a living fossil before."

"I should have stopped them." Ianto fretted.

"You couldn't," Jack said firmly. "They'd have killed you if you tried. Then," Jack added, before Ianto could argue, "You wouldn't have been there to get me out. With a forklift. A stroke of genius, that."

"Desperation," Ianto countered.

"The most beautiful sight I've ever seen," Jack commented "was you in that green safety vest. And I was crushed by the complete lack of response. You didn't even hug me."

"Didn't think that would be a good idea, given your…er….condition. You might have taken it the wrong way. And we had company."

Jack chuckled. "You'd rescued me from the evil government agents and you looked unbearably cute. And antlers," he added, with a rare attempt at delicacy. "Sometimes have a mind of their own."

"I did notice," Ianto said. "A bit difficult to miss, actually. Gwen noticed, too, much as she tried not to look. And Rhys is probably scarred for life."

"If he's scarred," Jack concluded. "He must have smaller antlers. So you don't have to check them out, after all."

"Damn."

"Are you implying my antlers aren't enough to keep you entertained anymore?"

"I wouldn't say that," Ianto said thoughtfully, "Then again, I might need a reminder."

Jack grinned. "Right now?"

"Or sooner," Ianto agreed, his voice roughening. But again, voices intruded just when things were getting interesting.

"Back in a minute," Ianto said breathlessly, pulling away suddenly. "I need to talk to Gwen."

Jack grabbed and missed.

Ianto wasn't gone long, but when he returned he sat carefully out of touching distance. Damn. Then again, there was a hell of a lot still left to talk about. And he'd put it off for too long already.

"Is Rhiannon OK?" Jack asked. "And her family? Her kids?"

Ianto nodded. "She's been helping. She got me a laptop. Wouldn't have been able to find you without it. And I've got her car still. Actually, I kind of stole that. Not as fancy as the one you stole, of course." He frowned suddenly. "I hope she got home OK."

Jack chuckled.

"We talked about you," Ianto added quietly. "Finally."

Jack tensed. "And?"

"Went better than I thought. She spluttered and giggled a bit but she mostly wanted to know if you were nice."

"I hope you said yes," Jack said with mock severity.

"I didn't get a chance. Johnny came in and got into the insults. But he hugged me too, so I suppose it could have been worse."

"So when this is over, can I meet them?" Jack asked hesitantly.

"Course you can," Ianto said. "You've still got to charm them into submission. You aren't getting out of that. I was humiliated in a restaurant for it."

"And after them, would you" Jack began. But he stopped. How was he going to do this? Alice hated that he looked younger than her. How was she going to cope with her father having a boyfriend nearly half her age? But damn, it, she _had_ to meet him. I want him to know my family, too.

And there was the rest. Ianto had told him everything about himself, however much it had hurt him to do it. I owe him. No more secrets. A chill swept through him. I have to tell him about those twelve kids.

"Would I what?" Ianto prompted, then broke off at the sound of footsteps behind them.

Gwen and Rhys. "We're going on a date," Gwen announced.

"Off to pinch more food," Rhys said.

"Shoplifting at high noon," Ianto commented. "Romantic."

Gwen smiled. "It's a good time. Lunchtime rush. Customers everywhere, in a hurry to get back to work before their break's over. Cashiers are too busy to watch the cameras."

Rhys hugged her. "Isn't she brilliant?" he asked proudly.

Gwen dropped an unexpected kiss onto Ianto's cheek. He smiled and nodded slightly. The couple left.

"What's with you and Gwen?" Jack asked suspiciously.

"Well, you know," Ianto said innocently. "She's seen _me_ naked, too." Jack choked on a laugh. Ianto had _never_ referred back to that night. Except as 'the night you moved in'. "And we were stuck in the Hub together while you were off saving the world with the Doctor," Ianto continued. "We've bonded. And we've got a common goal at the moment. We've launched a conspiracy. Come on." He got to his feet, tugging Jack with him, and led him back inside. Towards the shabby couch.

"Ianto, they could be back any minute," Jack protested as Ianto dragged his coat off his shoulders.

"But I've missed this coat," Ianto commented. He inhaled deeply. "Not quite there. You haven't been wearing it long enough. Doesn't smell right yet." He draped the coat carefully over the side of the couch. "Lean on that, it might help speed up the process."

"The supermarket is only five minutes away," Jack reminded him. Not that objected to where this seemed to be going, but Rhys walking in on them would definitely kill the mood. Again.

"So we should stop wasting time," Ianto suggested, winking. Then he collapsed onto the couch, laughing at the expression on Jack's face.

"It's OK," Ianto explained, "She'll be gone for forty-five minutes at least. After which _we'll _find some excuse to leave. Their turn, you understand. We're on a schedule. Now get over here before I start to worry you've gone off me."

Jack laughed in disbelief. "She's pregnant!" But he wasn't arguing anymore. He dropped onto the couch beside Ianto, who promptly dived on top of him.

"When we're done," Ianto said, working on Jack's braces, "You can research the effect of pregnancy hormones. She's about as desperate for it as I am right now."

"Who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend?" Jack asked comically. "And can I keep both of you?"

"Stop with the labels," Ianto instructed, sliding buttons out of buttonholes with intense concentration and excruciating slowness. At which point Jack decided he was just going to lean back and enjoy himself. Because he suddenly understood where all this was coming from. Ianto thought I wouldn't come back from that bomb, he realized. And if this is how he's chosen to reassure himself, I'm not going to be stupid enough to argue. Except, if we really are alone, this has got to be the ideal time to tell him….about all of it.

"Exactly how are you planning to introduce me to your sister, then?" Jack asked, thinking that if he turned the conversation back to family he might be able to work it around to Alice and Stephen. Somehow. But Ianto's next comment threw him again.

"I was considering the straightforward approach," Ianto said. "Something like - Rhi, this is Jack. Sexiest man alive; and he's mine? How's that?"

"Works for me," Jack agreed, feeling his heart begin to thud. There was a degree of possessiveness in that 'mine' that had never been there before. It was the closest Ianto had ever come to a declaration of love. Jack's eyes closed, willing him to go on.

But instead Ianto pulled away slightly, misreading the tension as withdrawal. "Is something wrong Jack?" he asked anxiously. "Have _I_ done something wrong? Don't you want this?"

"You know I do. And nothing's wrong. You're amazing. I'd tell you exactly how amazing," Jack added, pulling him close, "But you made me promise not to." Ianto smiled and brushed a finger along his lips. "Don't," they said together.

"It's just that I was enjoying talking with you," Jack added. He looked up into his lover's beautiful blue eyes, watching the pupils dilate. "There are things I need to tell you."

I have to stop hiding from you, he thought. I need you to know. I need you to forgive me. Those kids. Will you forgive me? You said you could forgive me anything, but can you really? So I can forgive myself?

"I liked talking too," Ianto agreed. "But talking is something we can do when other people are around. Unlike this." Jack chuckled, torn between relief and disappointment. But he was right. They could talk later. Who knew when they'd have a chance to be alone like this again? And if he doesn't forgive me, at least I'll have this to remember. I'll have the memory of the one time he wanted me so much he didn't care who knew about it. And any second now I'm going to be incapable of stringing a sentence together anyway.

"Are you sure?" Ianto asked suddenly, laughter in his voice. "That everything grew back? Because that's the only excuse I'm accepting for the fact that I'm still dressed."

Jack reached up. "Everything grew back. Bigger and better. I'll prove it." Too many buttons. He got the vest undone before he ran out of patience. Shirt buttons sprayed across the room.

"That was my only spare shirt," Ianto complained. Only he wasn't really complaining.

"I'll steal you another one," Jack promised. "And you can start with the Don'ts now, because I…."

But right then he lost the capacity for speech. Too many other things happening with his mouth. And anyway, they only had thirty-five minutes left.


	11. Chapter 11

Clem fired. Jack felt the bullet tear into his chest and welcomed it. Penance. He deserved it. He'd sent twelve children into hell. Maybe he wouldn't come back this time. He could only hope. At least that way he'd never have to see Ianto look at him like that again. The shock, the disbelief. And Gwen. Seeing her hero crumble before her eyes, finding her idol's feet of clay.

But of course he came back. And he wasn't alone. Ianto was holding him, in spite of everything. Had he forgiven him already? Or was it just compassion? Didn't matter. Ianto was holding him, steadying him while his lungs burned. Whatever it had done to him, to _them_, he still cared enough for that. Jack's arms locked around his in an awkward embrace, irrationally afraid that if he let go he'd never get him back.

But it was every bit as bad as he'd feared. Jack had faced firing squads, that hadn't shaken him as much as this – the disillusionment in their eyes. And Ianto, God it was unbearable. Why doesn't he yell? Throw a punch, anything, anything except this. Looking at me as if he doesn't even know me. Like I'm an alien artifact that he's trying to work out how to approach. And by the time Ianto did approach, they were both so wound up it ended in a slanging match.

Ianto watched Jack stalk away, stinging from the sarcasm in Jack's voice. Of course, this was just the right moment to tear strips off each other. _Is that OK? You're the boss. _And after all this time, _this_ is the moment he chooses to tell me he's got a family?

Jack fled to the roof. Where else? He was slumped against a wall, toying idly with his phone, trying to dredge up the reserves to face them again. To face _him_.

I know he tried to understand, but his eyes,…I've hurt him – again. But he said, he said I'm not the Jack he knows. I've lost him. I've let him go. I've pushed him away.

Somehow, Ianto got back inside and dropped numbly onto the couch. "They've got his family," he announced to no one in particular.

Gwen's head snapped up. "Whose family?"

"Jack. He's got a daughter, a grandson. Frobisher has them hostage."

Silence. "Go after him, Ianto," Gwen ordered.

"He wants to be alone," Ianto answered stubbornly. There was a stinging slap on the side of his head. "Ouch, Gwen. What was that for?"

"He may _want_ to be alone, but he _needs_ you. Go."

"Gwen…"

"Go. After. Him. Now."

There were footsteps approaching across the roof. Footsteps he knew. The ones he'd recognize anywhere. They stopped.

"What now?" Jack asked tiredly.

"Gwen sent me," Ianto mumbled.

"Tell her I'll be down soon."

"Nope."

Jack looked up. "I said, tell her…"

"Shut up Jack." Ianto dropped down beside him. "You're not the boss at the moment."

"Really?" Jack tried to choke down the flutter of hope. "What I am then?"

"Not sure," said Ianto thoughtfully, "Considering your problem with labels. But I seem to remember you've been using the term boyfriend." And they were in each others arms again. Where they belonged.

"The coat's just about right, now," Ianto remarked, from somewhere inside it.

"I don't suppose you'd consider coming out where I can see you?" Jack asked, not really caring. He was content, whole again, with the missing piece of his soul beside him. Everything else could wait, just for these few precious moments.

"If I must," Ianto conceded, emerging from the depths, hair tousled. Jack's hand slid up, caressing his hair back into order. "So when can I meet your family?" Ianto demanded.

"After I've met yours," Jack countered. "Alice doesn't know about you yet."

"You're a shit, Jack Harkness. You've been giving me hell for keeping you away from Rhi, and all this time you've had a family hidden away."

"I wasn't hiding them," Jack explained. "They've been hiding me. A different thing altogether."

"I'll let it go for now," Ianto conceded. "But only because we've got the world to save."

His face turned serious suddenly. "You did try to tell me, didn't you? After that nightmare you had last week?"

Jack nodded. "And yesterday. I guess I didn't try hard enough."

"Tell me why, Jack. Please. I want to understand why you couldn't confide in me."

Jack closed his eyes. "That nightmare. I haven't been able to shake it."

"You were yelling 'come back' in your sleep," Ianto remembered suddenly. "You were calling those kids back, weren't you?"

Jack nodded, seeing them again behind his eyes.

"And 'forgive me'. You said that too."

"You said you would," Jack said, hopelessness back in his voice. "But I know it's too much to expect."

He felt Ianto's hands cup his face. "Look at me, Jack."

Jack dragged his eyes open.

"There's nothing to forgive," Ianto said firmly. "You made a mistake. A big one. But you won't let it happen again. That's what matters now."

"But you said … you said you didn't know me."

"No I didn't," Ianto said heatedly. "What I was trying to say – obviously not very clearly – is that I know you aren't the same person now that you were then. Because the you I know wouldn't have done that. The person you are now would have stood up to them. And you will."

Jack's eyes began to light. "I called Frobisher before. Told him he has to let me help. That it was too big to hide. Threatened him a bit."

"And _that_," Ianto said with satisfaction. "Is the Jack I know."

Jack smiled, and the muscles is his face ached. First smile this whole lifetime.

"Gonna come and help me kick some alien ass?"

Ianto smiled back. "Since you're asking."

"Couldn't do it without you," Jack said seriously.

"Can we take the car you stole? It'd make a great entrance."

"You're learning," Jack said approvingly. "But I'm driving."

Ianto sighed. "Guess you're the boss again, huh?"


	12. Chapter 12

**Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, (without whom I would have stopped at around chapter 7) alerted or just read...**

_Let's go stand up to them_

Two men in a sports car. Saving the world together. The wind of their passage ruffled Ianto's hair, set the sleeves of his shirt billowing.

"You look hot," Jack yelled over the roar of the engine. "I may never let you wear a jacket again."

Ianto grinned across at the driver's seat. "Focus, Jack. World to save."

Their laughter floated out behind them. Both drunk on the adrenaline flooding through their systems. They'd been through the full gamut of emotions in the last few days. Death and resurrection. Loss and recovery. Despair and joy. And at the end of it, two men in a sports car, off to save the world. Completely in tune with each other, slamming their firearms down simultaneously, in a move that could have been rehearsed.

Facing the 456, together. Feeling as though he couldn't lose. Losing everything that mattered.

How many times has he had to hold me like this, watching the life fade out of my eyes? I took it so lightly. Did it hurt him this much, every time? I'm so sorry, my love.

_I love you_

_Don't_

Don't say it now. Don't. Don't go. Don't give up. Stay with me. We didn't have long enough. I didn't take you to the stars. I never got to see the phosphorous cascade light up your face. You never heard the Towers sing.

_You'll forget me. A thousand years._

He isn't saying I'd forget him. He can't really believe that. He's giving me permission to. But I won't. I can't. _Never could. I promise_. I'll remember you forever. Don't leave me. It wasn't meant to be like this. I knew I'd lose you one day but it's too soon. Old age, it was meant to be old age. _Don't leave me._

A lifetime ago, he'd kissed cold lips and his breath had brought Ianto back to life. But it wouldn't work this time, not with the air in both their lungs poisoned, not with his own life draining away.

Not long now. Jack's limbs were growing heavy, unresponsive. With his last reserves he draped an arm across his lost love. He won't be holding me when I come back, but at least I'll be holding him. What's left of him. With what's left of me. The darkness seeped in, and Jack embraced it yearningly. The darkness held no pain.

-XXXX-

I don't want to come back. Jack thought, feeling the burn begin in his lungs. He'd died with his arm around Ianto and now he was on his back. He'd been moved. He wouldn't even wake up beside him. _Just let me stay in the dark_ he pleaded to who knew what.

But his eyes opened, against his will, his lungs filled. He was alive again. The world was still ending. But his world had already ended. Gwen's ragged breathing assaulted his ears. Jack sat up. His heart broke all over again. Ianto _was _beside him, Gwen fiddling with the already perfect tie. But it wasn't Ianto, not anymore. That cold, grey face. The lips that had already been cold beneath his. He said he loved me. He said it at last. Makes it worse. And he said I'd forget him. How could he think I'd forget him? I won't. I can't. I have to live forever and I'll mourn him forever. _Damn you, Rose Tyler, why didn't you just let me die?_

His arms draped over Gwen in a mindless gesture of comfort. Awkward. She felt wrong. Not the body his arms wanted to hold. Their tears flowed and mingled. Ianto's voice echoed in his mind. _Not one solitary, single child. _I'll do it for you, Jack vowed silently. They won't take a single child away. No matter it costs.

-XXX-

Alice was screaming. Jack felt tears flowing from his eyes, but the pain that should go with them couldn't pass through the wall of grief that already shrouded him. Stabs of regret beat against the grief as uselessly as Alice's fists were beating against the glass.

Stephen's body shook, blurring from the speed. Hey, soldier, I'm sending you into battle. Sorry, soldier. But I promised. Not one child. Not one single, solitary child will they take. If it wasn't this, it'd be them. You'd have lived forever with them, but guess what, soldier? Forever sucks.

**If you don't want Ianto to come back, don't read the next chapter...**


	13. Chapter 13

**Thank you to everyone who is still reading and reviewing. Special thanks to Marian Locksley for brilliant advice, suggestions and filling plotholes.**

Jack lingered at the very back of the church. He hated churches. Hated what they symbolized, when he'd seen the darkness beyond life so many times. False hope, it seemed to him. But he'd had to come. Had to. Had to see if it helped, being with other people who were mourning Ianto as much as he was.

At the front of the church, the woman from the photos in their bedroom. The sister he'd been supposed to meet. Before the world ended. His world, anyway.

The words of the service floated meaninglessly through his head. It wasn't helping. But it was better than most Torchwood funerals. At least this family had a body. The right body. He'd made sure of that. Protocol had directed that even though the Torchwood 3 morgue was a crumpled mess somewhere in the bottom of that crater, the employees' body should be placed in government storage. But Jack was still leader of Torchwood 3, he'd claimed his beloved Welshman's body for his family, and sent the bureaucrats a cryo-corpse. Hadn't told anyone. Not even Gwen. Perhaps that was why she hadn't come to the funeral.

The service ended. Jack watched hungrily as the family departed. They were going to be my family, he thought brokenly. Ianto had it all planned. The children, David and Micha, he'd have been "Uncle Jack" to them. His throat closed again. Like he'd been to Stephen. They were better off without him.

He waited off to a side, giving them all time to get to their cars. He still had the ostentatious black sports car he'd stolen. Though by now the theft had been officially converted into a 'required Government seizure' and the owner had a new one. But Jack didn't want anyone to see him using that car, not today. Too frivolous. His eyes burned, remembering Ianto beside him in the passenger seat, wind ruffling his hair. Off to 'stand up to them.' He shouldn't have taken him. He shouldn't…

"Captain Jack Harkness, is it?" Jack turned blurred eyes on the woman who had appeared in front of him.

He nodded. "I am. You must be," he swallowed, remembering how this was supposed to be, how it would never be. "You must be Ianto's sister. Rhiannon."

She nodded. "Didn't want to meet you like this." Tears spilled from her eyes.

"You shouldn't want to meet me at all," Jack said hoarsely. "It was my fault."

"He knew you'd say that," she answered, trying to smile. "That you'd always blame yourself when something happened to him. And he said that I mustn't, whatever happened. So I don't. I want you to know that."

Jack eyes filled. "Thank you."

She turned to watch the hearse depart. "He's with Dad now, at least."

Jack's hands formed into fists. "I hope not," he said, the words spilling out before he could stop them.

Rhiannon turned back to him, determination in her eyes. "He told you then?"

Jack nodded.

"You were there, weren't you? When he…."

Jack nodded again.

"Did he cry?" she demanded

Jack shook his head. "No."

Rhiannon's face crumpled as if she'd been hit.

"He didn't have to," Jack added firmly. "I did it for him."

Rhiannon swayed on her feet. Jack put an arm around her in unthinking support. She leaned against him. "He did tell you," she repeated. "He trusted you." She pulled away. "That's good enough for me then. Are you coming back to the house?"

"No," Jack said. "Thank you, but no. I can't."

"Tomorrow then," Rhiannon said insistently. "Will you come tomorrow?"

"I…"

"He sent me things," she insisted. "He sent something for you."

The refusal died on his lips. Something for me. Something of his, perhaps. Their flat –their _home _- had been stripped bare by the time Jack had gotten back to it. Government protocol again – or perhaps even while Torchwood had been in hiding. Nothing left. Nothing tangible of their life together. Not so much as a photograph.

"I will then," Jack agreed. "Thank you."

An ordinary house. Rhiannon met him at the door.

"Come in, Captain Harkness," she invited. Her eyes were still swollen.

"Jack," he offered. "Please call me Jack."

Two children bounded past, herded by a man who was obviously their father. Micha, Jack remembered. David. And her husband was Johnny.

"This him?" Johnny asked coldly, eyes raking Jack from head to toe. "The Boss?"

"Yes," Rhiannon answered. "Jack, this is Johnny."

Jack extended a hand, which was ignored. But Ianto had warned him about Johnny. _You'd end up with your fist in his face. _He dropped his hand, forcing his face into impassiveness.

Rhiannon sighed. "He loved him too, Johnny," she said firmly.

Johnny grunted.

"Out," Rhiannon ordered tiredly. "If you can't be civil, get out. And take the kids."

Jack waited in silence while the family departed. Not his family. Never would be, now.

"Coffee, Jack?" she asked. "Not up to his standard, but he used to drink it, so it can't be too bad."

Jack forced a smile. She was trying so hard. But all he could think about was how it should have been. _Charm them into submission _Ianto had said.

"Coffee would be fine," he agreed.

"With a stiffener, perhaps?" She raised a brandy bottle.

Jack nodded. "Thanks."

They settled into two armchairs, with a coffee table between them. On the table, an archive box. Rhiannon smiled thinly.

"He left all this in the boot of my car. Knew it would get returned to me. Clever, he was." Jack wondered if speaking of Ianto in the past tense hurt her as much as it was hurting him.

Rhiannon reached into the box and drew out a velvet bag.

"This is for you," she said, passing it over.

Jack took the bag gingerly. Opened the drawstring and poured the contents into his hand. His throat closed. The stopwatch.

"It belonged to our grandfather," Rhiannon explained. "He and Ianto were very close."

"I know," Jack answered. His hand closed tightly around the metal case, remembering. _Lots of things you can do with a stopwatch, Sir._ The first time Ianto had stayed with him at the Hub. His eyes closed. I'd wanted him for so long, but he kept making those jokes about harassment, only I wasn't sure they were jokes. I had to back off. But that night with the stopwatch, Ianto had made the first move. Their first time…..

Jack's eyes opened, banishing the memories. The stopwatch was a family heirloom. He had no right to take it. He wasn't family. But somehow he couldn't make his fingers release their grip. "Are you sure?"

Rhiannon nodded. "Granddad gave it to Ianto. It was his to pass on as he liked. And he wanted you to have it. He said so." She leaned into the box again and pulled out a leather bound book. "He said so in here," Rhiannon elaborated.

"His diary," Jack said, eyes hungry. Ianto hadn't let him find that again. Had he written in it, those last few days? Had he forgiven me, really? His hands reached out unconsciously.

"Not for you," Rhiannon warned, pulling it back. "He left instructions in this, for me. Like giving you the watch. And I'm going to follow them. Last thing I can ever do for him. God knows I didn't do enough when he was alive, but I'll not fail him now." She clutched the book to her chest for a moment, breathing heavily, sobs near the surface.

"Sorry," she said, recovering. "But I wanted you to know I had it. That I'd read it. So you'd understand I know everything about – you two. And the work you did. All of it. I know all of it now." She smiled tentatively. "There's a lot of stuff about you in there. Wouldn't let you read it anyway. Give you a swelled head."

Jack hadn't expected to be able to smile yet, but he did. She had the same sense of humor as her brother.

Rhiannon breathed deeply again. "He was a bloody hero, wasn't he?"

Jack nodded. "He was. He didn't think so, but he was."

They finished their coffee in a silence that was beginning to feel comfortable. Jack realized in those few moments that they would have been friends, if they'd had the chance. It would have made Ianto happy.

"What will you do now?" Rhiannon asked eventually.

Jack shrugged. "Travel, I suppose." He passed a hand over his eyes tiredly. "Nothing to stay here for anymore."

"I'd like you to come back." Rhiannon said, fixing him with a determined dark stare. "Keep in touch."

Jack regarded her silently. "I don't think so," he answered finally.

"You must. Just once. Will you?" Brown eyes, not blue, but the same depth of purpose in them

"Why?"

"Something he asked me to do. Can't tell you until it's done. If it works. Will you come back?"

Jack sighed. For him. "All right."

"Four months," Rhiannon directed. "Come back here in four months."

"I'll try."

"No. You must. Promise me you will. He said you never break a promise. Please."

"All right," Jack surrendered. "All right, I promise. Four months from today."

Four weary months. Stuck on an Earth that had grown too small, too dark. Held by a promise. And now he was back. Rhiannon answered the door again.

"I'm here," Jack said. "As promised."

Rhiannon smiled. "Thank you. Come in." She looked different. Tired. And she'd put on weight. Grief did strange things.

The house was silent.

"Kids are at school," she explained. "Johnny's at work."

Same armchair, same coffee table. Coffee, chat. Jack wondered wearily why he was here.

"In his diary," Rhiannon said. "He talked about wanting children. Did you know?"

"I knew he'd planned to have kids with Lisa," Jack admitted. "But…" he trailed off.

"Medical science," Rhiannon commented, "For all its progress, it can't give two men a child, can it?"

Jack shrugged. "We might have talked about adoption once or twice. For the future. Maybe."

"But it wouldn't have been his, would it?" Rhiannon persisted. "You'd need a surrogate for that." Her hand strayed meaningfully to her abdomen.

Jack's eyes widened. Even in the 51st century, some things remained taboo. The extra weight. The tiredness, not just lack of sleep, but….

"You're having Ianto's baby? That's….you're his sister!"

"God no," Rhiannon protested. "I'm having his clone."

…**..one more to go….I think.**


	14. Chapter 14

**Dedicated to Marian Locksley, for building a better clone.**

**Thanks to everyone who has hung in until the end. Hope you like it.**

"I don't understand," Jack said vaguely. The universe was shuddering. A clone. Ianto's clone.

Rhiannon delved into the archive box again. He hadn't noticed it was beside her chair, on the floor.

A package landed on the coffee table in front of him.

"Read it," said Rhiannon, watching him intently.

Jack picked up the thick manila envelope. A mug of coffee appeared beside his hand. He sipped at it as he read. Not as good as Ianto's, but not bad. Not bad at all. Maybe the secret to Coffee Magery was in his diary. Or maybe it was genetic.

Genetics. Research. Statistics. Experimental cloning. Cloning. She was carrying a clone. Ianto's clone. But it was the 21st century. They couldn't do this yet. "Where did you get this from?" Jack asked sharply.

"With the stuff Ianto left in my car," Rhiannon said slowly. "He'd invested in this research project." She smiled thinly. "If it had worked, he'd have made millions. Put IVF in the shade."

Jack shook his head, trying to get his mind working clearly again. He wasn't processing any of it. They couldn't do this yet. They couldn't. His eyes flicked from the file in his hands to the woman sitting across from him. To the bulge in her stomach that was already stretching her shirt. Or could they?

"The idea," Rhiannon persisted, "Was that you take two people who couldn't have children together, for whatever reason. Clone from both. Both was the experimental part. They aren't there yet. But they _can_ clone from one person. Well, they can grow the cells, but they can't grow the child without a surrogate." Her hand strayed to her abdomen again. "So that's me."

Jack looked at her suspiciously. "They used you as an experiment?"

Rhiannon turned a slight shade of pink. Embarrassed? "I…um…I might have threatened them. Just a bit."

He stared at her. Couldn't get any words out. Ianto's sister making threats? But then, Ianto had been capable of ruthlessness, too. When he'd had to be. To protect someone he loved. A wholly inappropriate smile creased Jack's face as he remembered. He flirted his cute little ass off to make me employ him. To get into Torchwood. For Lisa. Hooked me. But it backfired on him, he hooked himself too.

"I….err…" Rhiannon's stuttering voice dragged Jack back to the present. "I said I'd withdraw the funding if they didn't."

"You?" Jack knew his tone was unflattering, but this was all too much to take in.

"Cause it's mine now," Rhiannon concluded in a rush. "Because he left everything to me. Including all his, oh look I don't know what the right terms are, but he controlled the funding of this project thing, and now I do."

She paused, heaved a deep breath, and blurted out, "But what I don't understand is, why me? Why didn't he leave it all to you? I mean, you were…I would have thought…."

Jack's eyes closed. Tears threatened to leak from beneath his lids.

"I wouldn't let him," he explained woodenly. "He tried. He wanted to, but I." He forced his eyes open. "I had this problem with him planning anything for after he…... I just didn't want to think about it."

Another memory intruded, one he'd tried to forget.

"_We should leave now, if you still want to catch that movie," Jack reminded Ianto. "Are you done?"_

_Ianto looked up from the desk, where he'd been sorting through the mail. He smiled. "Pretty much. Bills are all paid on time, for a change. I just need to get my signature witnessed, but that can wait."_

"_I'll do it," Jack answered, draping his hands arms around Ianto's shoulders and nuzzling his neck. "If you ask nice."_

_Ianto sighed contentedly and leaned back into the embrace. "So kind of you to offer," he murmured. "But beneficiaries can't be witnesses. I'll ask Tosh."_

_Beneficiaries? Jack frowned, reached for the paperwork, froze at the heading. "Last Will and Testament of….." He snatched the thick paper away and shredded it viciously._

"_Hey," Ianto protested. _

"_The only thing worse than you dying," Jack yelled, over the roaring in his brain, "Is me profiting from it."_

_He was gone for hours. They'd never brought it up again._

And because I was so stubborn, Jack realized, it's all fallen to his sister. I owe it to him to help her. And she was talking again, the words tumbling over themselves in her haste.

"And I know he wanted this, it's in his diary. Well, not me perhaps, but someone. So I told them they had to do it….and they did. All official, a clinical trial they called it. And it worked. Look."

She drew a small shiny piece of paper from a pocket and handed it over. A blurred object on photographic paper. But not a photo. An ultrasound.

"Twelve weeks," Rhiannon said softly, watching Jack's face. "And all the results so far say he's perfect. That's why I wanted you to come back now. Couldn't tell you before. In case they wouldn't do it. Or in case something went wrong."

Jack's finger traced the outlines in numb wonder. A head. Feet. Hands. A child. A child created from Ianto's cells. A different sort of immortality. A better sort. And suddenly everything else in the entire universe ceased to matter.

He wasn't sure how long he stared at the fuzzy image, feeling the paper growing warm beneath his fingers. Feeling warmth creeping back into his core, the part that had frozen the last time he'd held Ianto in his arms. Feeling himself coming back to life, in the only way that really mattered. Learning to love again. Loving a fuzzy image on a piece of paper.

Eventually, unwillingly, he offered the slip of paper back to the woman sitting across from him.

"Keep it," she offered. A smile crept across her face. A real smile. "Your first baby photo."

Jack tucked the image carefully into his wallet. When he looked up, Rhiannon was checking her watch and shifting uncomfortably in her seat.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

"It's time to pick the kids up from school," she said.

Jack rose, "I should go then," he offered reluctantly.

Rhiannon smiled. "Or you could come with, if you like? The kids would love it. We always stop at the park on the way home and I don't last as long pushing the swings anymore."

"Micha, David," said Rhiannon. "This is Jack, Uncle Ianto's friend."

Micha looked curiously at Jack. "Uncle Jack," she corrected firmly. "If he's the one from the stories." Jack's heart lurched. This was how it should have been.

"Micha, hush," Rhiannon scolded. "Come on, get on the swings then."

"I want Uncle Jack to push me," Micha pouted.

"Me, too," David demanded.

Rhiannon took a breath, ready to scold some more.

"Happy to," Jack intervened. He set both swings rocking, allowing the peace to settle through his being. How it should have been. Just for a moment.

"Sorry about that," Rhiannon apologized. "They've been asking about Ianto. About what happened those few days. So I've been reading to them from his diary. And as I said, there's a lot about you in there."

"I don't mind," Jack answered. He grinned. First time since…."I always wanted to read that diary. Any chance?" And was rewarded with a swat on the arm.

"No chance," Rhiannon smirked. "Like I said before, swelled head."

And they were laughing. Actually laughing. Jack sobered abruptly, gave the swings one last push and stepped away.

"I want to help," he said. "Money. Anything."

"Your Torchwood paid well," Rhiannon said, smiling. "Ianto left him well provided for."

"There must be something I can do," Jack insisted. "If Ianto was planning this, it must have been so that we could raise the child together. I know that can't happen now, but I want to be involved." He stopped, realizing it sounded like an order. "If you'll let me," he added. "Please."

Rhiannon nodded thoughtfully. "He'll grow up as part of my family," she said. "Johnny has agreed to raise him as our own. He'll be Dad, same as to the others. But you could be…Uncle Jack, perhaps?" Her eyes filled again. "To Micha and David too, if you like. That's how it would have been, if…..." Her voice choked off, but she was smiling hopefully through the tears.

Jack's eyes filled too. The way it should have been. And he'd thought it couldn't be. "Oh come here, you daft sod," Rhiannon said gruffly, opening her arms. "Immortal you may be, but you're never too old to hug your sister."

And with that simple embrace, the walls of grief crumbled. Because now he had something to live for. Some_one_ to live for. Several someones. Ianto's family. His family.

His family. The flare of joy turned to ashes. Alice. Stephen. Uncle Jack. He'd been Uncle Jack to Stephen. No.

"I can't," he whispered, backing away.

"Why not?" Rhiannon demanded, as the light drained out of his face. "It's obvious you want to."

"Because," Jack said stonily. "The Earth isn't safe. Those things, those creatures that killed Ianto, they're still out there. They didn't get what they wanted. They could come back any time. And they know me. That makes me a target. And anyone close to me. My family." He paused. "Your family. If I'm around you it could put you in danger. And I can't let that happen."

Rhiannon locked eyes with him, a challenging expression on her face. "Best you fix it then."

Jack laughed bitterly. "Yeah." Of course. Easy. Just fix it.

"It's what you do, isn't it?" she demanded. "Defend the Earth? That's what Ianto said, and I believe him. So get on with it." Another Jones, kicking him in the conscience. Kicking him into action. And it worked. Again.

I guess it_ is_ what I do, Jack thought. And they are criminals, those 456. Drug runners. Intergalactic drug runners. Perhaps it's time to take the fight to them. Away from Earth. Plans sparked in his brain. And I don't have to do it alone. What else is the Shadow Proclamation for, anyway?

"It might take a while," Jack drawled. The old, confident, manic grin spread slowly across his face.

Rhiannon patted her stomach. "You've got six months."

Weeks later, on a hillside. With Gwen, her stomach swollen too. Another one to make the Earth safe for. There's nothing to stay here for, Gwen, not yet. But soon. Soon there will be. And I've got a lot to do in the meantime. Out there.

Gwen was talking, trying to convince him to stay. But the words didn't matter. It _was_ my fault, all of it, all the ones lost. But I'm going to make up for it. I'm going to make it up to _him_. And it's time to take the fight away from Earth.

They're out there somewhere. Those 456. They're criminals. They're murderers. And they've got to be stopped. _Not one solitary, single child._ And they've still got eleven. I'll free them, somehow. I'll make the Earth safe. For _him_. For all the children. Maybe it's impossible. But I'm good at impossible.

_Just watch me._

**So hopefully he's got a means of redemption and a reason to come back for series 4! Hope you liked it. Thanks for reading.**


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